Blade of the Past
by jinakel wohess
Summary: Ghosts from Kenshin's past have yet to die and stay buried. The Kamiya dojo stumbles across a new student. This boy is intricately linked to Kenshin's bloody part in the Revolution, and he is the catalyst for the Kenshin group's future battles.
1. Yahiko to the Rescue

Alas, I do not own Rurouni Kenshin nor any of the characters.  I therefore do not make any money off of them, so please do not get it in your head to sue me for rights over something so small as a little fanfic.  

This takes place about a year or so after the series ends.  I haven't actually seen the end of the series, so forgive me if I get some things wrong.  And I don't know everyone's ages exactly, so I'm giving it my best estimate (I get different ages from different sources).  

Warnings:  None, really.  No excess violence, no sex.  Then what do I have to offer?  A compelling story (I hope).  

*****

BLADE OF THE PAST

Chapter One – Yahiko to the Rescue

Yahiko strolled down the street, for all appearances completely oblivious to everything around him.  He managed to narrowly avoid colliding with a man carrying a large and full bucket of fish.  He closed his eyes as his hands came to rest in the ties of his hakama.  The wooden sword hung there, showing the entire city of Tokyo that he was a student of sword fighting.  And he earned many sour glares for it. Yahiko ignored them all, keeping his leisurely stroll, his head held high and his hand resting gently on the handle of his precious sword. 

 He crashed into an old man. Yahiko mumbled apologies as he helped the old man to his feet.  The young apprentice handed the man's cane to him and got a swift knock on the head for his clumsiness. 

Yahiko mumbled a few more colorful curses that he'd picked up from Sano as he brushed dirt off his clothing and kept walking.  He seemed to not be paying any attention to his surroundings, but in truth, Yahiko was deep in concentration with Kenshin's latest teachings in mind.  The experienced samurai's words ran through Yahiko's head as he tried again to concentrate.  "You must learn to sense your environment with more than just your eyes, that you do.  You must use your very spirit to find the people around you." 

With renewed focus, Yahiko managed to barely sidestep a woman and her young child.  Unfortunately, that was one of his very few successes.  Perhaps walking through the crowded market place wasn't the best place to try this new lesson.  With a defeated sigh, Yahiko opened both eyes and dove to the side.  A large cart of rice raced by, narrowly missing Yahiko's head from where he lay stunned on the ground. 

He rolled up smoothly, exercising one of the Kamiya Kasshin moves he'd managed to master.  He was very good at picking himself back up off the ground.  Kaoru seemed to put him there enough. 

How did Kenshin manage to move so quickly during that time he was blind?  The red-haired swordsman had run around following Misao and fighting like he wasn't handicapped at all!  Yahiko just knew that he had a lot of training ahead of him before he reached Kenshin's skill level - if Kenshin ever let him learn parts of the Hiten Mitsurugi style.  At first, Kenshin had been set against teaching Yahiko anything, but after three years, the older samurai was beginning to teach Yahiko some small things, like discovering his own swordsman's spirit.  Kaoru was still his master and sensei, but Kenshin was becoming more and more of an instructor.

Yahiko's thoughts were broken by a scream.  None of the people seemed to notice the small sounding voice that drifted through the market streets, barely heard above the din of the morning crowds.  It was coming from his left, on the opposite side of the street from the Akabeko.  Tae was inside, smiling at her customers.  She didn't hear the short yelp that Yahiko had. 

He made his way through the crowd, without trying to seem like he was making his way through the crowd.  He remembered these alleys.  Wasn't this where he'd found Tsubame being harassed by those men?  It was the middle of the morning now, though.  Why were strangely dressed men attacking someone when it was bright outside?  Yahiko crept up behind them. 

"Where's your mother, kid?" 

It was useless to ask questions.  The man's hand was so tight around the young boy's neck that he couldn't breathe, much less answer a question.  His eyes were squeezed shut, and he was being held against the wall with his feet high off the ground.  The kid was dressed well, but with poor clothes.  Most likely, his mother had sewn them herself.  He didn't look completely Japanese.  The boy had bright red hair and tanned skin, with only a hint of Japanese ancestry. 

"Why did she leave Kyoto?  Didn't she know that she was supposed to stay where Master Saku could watch over her?" 

The kid stopped kicking, his skin turning a deadly shade of pale blue.  Yahiko decided to make his presence known. 

"Picking on little kids isn't a very manly thing to do, you know." 

The three men who'd had the kid cornered whipped around to face Yahiko, each of them wearing that stupefied expression that only extremely dull-witted henchmen possessed. 

"Where'd he come from?" 

"Never mind that," Yahiko answered for them.  "Leave him alone." 

"Who are you to stick up for him? Did his mother send you?" 

Yahiko shook his head.  "No one sent me.  I saw you harassing this boy and came over to take care of you myself." 

"You?  You can't be more than three days older than this kid." the man dropped the red-haired boy, giving him a good kick to the gut to impede his breathing even more.  The kid coughed and spit, but he regained the ability to breathe rather quickly, to Yahiko's relief.  He turned his big eyes on Yahiko, revealing the shocking bright crimson color of his eyes.  Yahiko snorted at the men.  He had to be at least two years older than this red-haired, red-eyed kid. 

"It doesn't matter how old I am.  I can still kick your ass." 

The three men advanced, drawing out steel swords of their own.  Yahiko lifted his wooden sword, regretting his insult after seeing their real weapons and the hatred in those men's eyes.  But Yahiko wasn't one to back down from a challenge.  He held his sword out in front of him with both hands in the best defensive posture he knew.  He was ready for a fight.

He wasn't ready for the men to all attack at once.  They truly were street thugs, more interested in winning than in keeping honor.  True swordsmen would have attacked one at a time, but these guys all rushed at once.  And they knocked Yahiko to the ground.  Only a quick defensive flick of his wrist brought his bokken up between his body and their swords.  Only that instinctive reaction saved Yahiko's life. 

"Fight's over kid.  Give it up." 

Yahiko jumped to his feet faster than they expected, sending the three big men scuttling backwards.  "Nothing's over.  I haven't even warmed up."  With a wicked grin, Yahiko put his wooden sword by his side - mimicking Kenshin's stance.  Kenshin may not actively teach him, but Yahiko didn't need an instructor to watch and learn. 

"That's the Battousai's stance," one man whispered. 

"Impossible.  The Battousai is dead." 

Yahiko very much wanted to laugh at them.  "The Battousai is alive and well.  And I know him personally," he said, causing one of the men to back away. That left only two to fight.  And Yahiko wasn't too involved in his fight to remember Kenshin's other advice.  Find a way to fight them one at a time.  "Catch me if you can you ugly bastards!" 

He sprinted past the kid, jumping an overturned pile of planks.  He could hear the labored breathing of the big men behind him, and he figured that labored breathing wasn't only due to their excess weight.  The henchmen had probably consumed a bit of sake before coming out to pick on small children.  Around the corner, he knew the narrow alleyway was there.  Just like with Tsubame, he could get himself in the narrow corridor and pick them off one by one. 

"Got you now kid," the biggest and obviously leader of the group said. 

"Do you?" 

Yahiko didn't wait for an answer.  His bokken hit the man hard on the forehead, stunning him long enough for Yahiko to whirl around and knock the wooden sword on the back of the man's head. He fell in an unconscious heap.  The young swordsman looked up at his next opponent, his breathing steady and calm.  The man ran. 

With a sigh of disappointment, Yahiko went back to the original alley, hoping the kid would still be there.  It wasn't right to leave a recently harassed boy in strange alleys.

*****

AN:  what do you think?  I'm sorry if I get the Japanese words and culture stuff wrong – I'm just basing the vocabulary off of the other fanfics I've read.  I've got a lot more on this written, let me know if you think I should keep posting or not.  Thanks - jin


	2. Stories of Samurai

I don't own Rurouni Kenshin nor do I claim to.

*****

BLADE OF THE PAST

Chapter 2 – Stories of Samurai

"Uncle Ken, but tell us more of the story!" 

Kaoru giggled to herself as she watched Suzame and Ayame cling to Kenshin's clothes as he moved about the yard. 

"Oro?" Kenshin asked, the slight smile on his lips betraying the fact that he knew exactly what the girls were talking about. 

"Uncle Ken," they protested simultaneously.  "Tell us about the story!" 

Kenshin continued with the basket of laundry in his arms and two small girls attached to his legs.  If Kenshin weren't so strong, the deadweight of two small girls on his pants would have impeded his housework.  As it was, he carried on completely unhindered by his "nieces." 

"What kind of story did you want to hear?" he asked, smiling as he set the basket down and began hanging clothes. 

"Uncle Ken!" 

Kaoru giggled again and ducked behind the convenient edge of the doorframe to avoid Kenshin's curious glance in her direction.  Things were going to get ugly soon if he didn't appease the two little girls. 

"Do you mean the story about the samurai girl?" Kenshin asked, faking ignorance.

"Yes! Yes, Uncle Ken!" the girls chorused, jumping up and down. 

"The girl who fought in the Revolution?" he asked, as if there were any other samurai girl stories that he'd been telling lately. 

"Yes, yes!" Ayame exclaimed, very nearly knocking over Suzame.  "The one about the girl who learned how to swordfight by watching men!" 

Kaoru smiled again, noticing the girls' interest in a story about an independent woman warrior.  Of course, no such woman existed in this day and age, but Kaoru was pleasantly surprised that Dr. Gensai's girls were interested in such a woman.  And she was even more surprised in Kenshin's storytelling.  She never would have guessed that the former Battousai was such an animated and involved storyteller.  He seemed to be genuinely excited in sharing some fantastical stories with the little girls. 

"Uncle Ken!" Suzame began to whine again.  Kenshin laughed as he pretended not to hear her and instead grabbed another of Yahiko's gis and attached it to dry.  "Uncle Ken, Uncle Ken, Uncle Ken, Uncle Ken, Uncle..." 

Suzame's chanting was cut short by Ayame's hand over her mouth. 

"Where was I?" Kenshin asked, his smile possibly brighter than the sunshine that flooded through the dojo gardens.  "Ah, we got to the point where she was hired by the shogun Yamaki, that we did."


	3. Shinta

Alas, I do not own good-looking redheaded samurai.

*****

BLADE OF THE PAST

Chapter 3 – Shinta

"Who are you?" the kid asked the moment Yahiko's form reappeared in the alleyway.  The boy was shivering, backed against a wall and huddling between two cartons that had been left to rot. 

Yahiko frowned with disgust at the boy, for who would be stupid enough to stick around the scene of your latest beating?  After seeing him like this though, Yahiko's anger at the kid's lack of action faded into pity.  The kid was cold and scared, and he was obviously more than shaken over the whole affair than he tried to let on. 

The boy cowered even more as Yahiko crouched in front of him. 

"My name is Yahiko," he offered, finally answering the kid's question.  "What's yours?"

The kid shook his head, unwilling to reveal his name even though Yahiko had proven he wasn't going to hurt the boy.  At least, in Yahiko's mind he'd proven himself as a friend.  Why would he save the kid's life from those thugs if he weren't a friend?  Unless Yahiko only wanted to gain his trust and use him later.... ok, so Yahiko could understand why the boy was still cautious. 

"Come on kid," Yahiko pleaded as he held a hand out, looking more like he was trying to calm a frightened and abused dog rather than a human being.  The kid's tremors stopped as he contemplated the offered hand.  His ruby-colored eyes flicked from Yahiko's face to the outstretched fingers and back again.  Yahiko remained in front of him, his hand out and a slight smile on his face.  Finally the kid accepted the offered hand. 

Yahiko beamed and pulled the kid to his feet.  "So what's your name kid?" Yahiko asked again. 

The boy wavered a moment before he answered, "Shinta." 

"Well, nice to meet you Shinta.  I'm glad I got here when I did today.  Can I walk you home?" 

Shinta looked panicked at the mention of his home.  He backed away and hung his head, obscuring his dirtied and slightly bruising face with long unkempt bangs.  "I don't have one." 

Yahiko grinned like a madman, and if Shinta had been watching, then he would surely have been scared even more.  "That's great then.  You can come home with me.  My parents died a long time ago.  I live at the dojo where I learn the Kamiya Kasshin style of swordsmanship.  You can come too." 

Hope glimmered in the boy's eyes as he looked up at Yahiko.  "Do you think so?" 

"Sure.  Kaoru's a rude ugly hag, but she won't turn someone who needs help away."  Yahiko normally wouldn't have been so nice to the kid, or have treated him so childlike, but Shinta seemed like he needed the extra comfort.  Shinta looked about thirteen, but Yahiko guessed the kid had seen a lot in his life.  He was too shifty and panicked for Yahiko to think otherwise.


	4. Going Fishing

Crystal and mae: Thanks for liking the story!  Sorry I haven't updated in a day or two.  FF.net has been twitchy and not letting me log on.  Here's two chaps to make up for it.

I don't own Kenshin.

*****

BLADE OF THE PAST

Chapter Four – Going Fishing

Sano wandered through the streets, passing by his old haunts that were just barely starting to stir and receive customers after last night's games and drink.  He would have meandered in, just to see who was there and to maybe get a head start on his drinking for the day.  But she didn't like it when he drank.  Not that he cared what the missy thought.  Sagara Sanosuke didn't care one flip what anyone thought…but he found himself not wanting to gamble anymore.  He found himself not so interested in the games and the women as he was in the Kamiya dojo and its happenings.  

In particular, a girl who ran that dojo.

Sano wouldn't have admitted it to anyone, but his attentions were more and more drawn to the raccoon-girl.  Alarming, really.  Even more alarming that a girl like Kaoru could make him want to bypass his old bars to go and sit on the porch at her dojo, watching her teach the few young boys who she'd picked up as apprentices this last year.  

But if anyone asked, Sano was just dropping in to bum a free lunch.  

He wandered down the streets, smiling at a few of the less reputable girls he'd known once upon a time and nodding at some of his old gambling partners.  Some of them even asked where he had been these last few months and where he was going this morning, and Sano just shrugged and replied, "Where my feet take me."  

With his hands casually in his pockets, he found himself searching the crowds for familiar red hair, or Yahiko's spiky raven hair.  Kaoru often sent one or both of them out on errands before lunch while she was teaching her younger students.  Her two older students, Yahiko included, were taught in the afternoon.  He didn't catch sight of anyone from the Kamiya dojo until he practically reached its gates and practically ran over Kenshin as he was leaving.

"Excuse me.  I didn't watch where I was…" Kenshin began until he noticed Sano blinking down at him, rightly confused as to why Kenshin would be running out of the dojo in a hurry and not notice a large body at the gates.  "It is a good morning, Sano, that it is," Kenshin said with that polite innocent smile of his.

"Sure thing, Kenshin," Sano replied.  "What are you doing…?"

"Going fishing for tonight," Kenshin said, hefting up a bucket and fishing pole. 

Ayame and Suzume burst out of the dojo gates and into the street where Kenshin and Sano stood talking.  "Uncle Ken!" they whined simultaneously.

Kenshin looked guilty and turned around to them.  "What is it?"

"You were gonna leave without us," Ayame pouted.  She held her sister's hand and stared accusingly at her Uncle Ken.

"I just came out to see Sano, that I did," Kenshin lied, smiling down at the two girls.  He looked longingly up at Sano, surprising the younger man with that look.  Normally Kenshin jumped at the chance to go into town or do some fishing with the girls, but today it looked like Kenshin would rather have escaped alone.  Sano was at a loss as to whether or not he should interfere and save Kenshin.  

Kenshin answered that question before Sano had completely finished the thought, setting his bucket and pole down to swing a now laughing Suzume up and onto his shoulders.  Ayame picked up the bucket and pole and held them out to Kenshin, which he took with one hand and then held tightly to her with his other hand.  

"We're off to the river now, Sano.  I suspect you'll be staying for dinner as well as lunch?"

Sano frowned.  Something was wrong with Kenshin and the thick-headed samurai was going to pretend like everything was fine and dandy.  He crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at Kenshin.  

"It's a reasonable assumption, is it not?  If you are already here by lunch, will you not stay for dinner?"

"What's it to you if I stay?" Sano asked, getting defensive for no reason other than the fact that Kenshin didn't trust him with some bit of information or other.  And if the girls weren't attached to the red-haired bastard, Sano would beat the truth out of Kenshin.  

"I need to know if we need three or four fish for dinner, that I do," Kenshin said softly.  

"Seven!" Suzume laughed from Kenshin's shoulders.  

"Oro?"

"Seven, if you count Grandpa, Suzume, and me," Ayame explained, looking annoyed with her Uncle Ken's inability to figure that out.  

"Seven then," Kenshin corrected, smiling down at Ayame and then at Sano.  "And mind that you don't bother Miss Kaoru too much."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sano asked, getting defensive again in a matter of seconds.  

"It means that you shouldn't spend all your time watching her and distracting her from her younger students, that you shouldn't."  Kenshin gave a knowing look from under his bangs, along with a nearly mischievous smile.  "Come on, let's go to the river," he said to the girls before Sano could get a word in about his earlier comment.

Sano stood at the gates for a moment, watching as Kenshin walked slowly down the street with Suzume on his shoulders and Ayame holding his hand.  Kenshin didn't have to walk as slowly as he used to when he first went fishing with the girls, Ayame being older and bigger now and able to take longer steps.  Sano watched for anything suspicious about Kenshin as he disappeared into the other people walking along the street and around a corner, but Kenshin didn't express any of that odd feeling he'd given Sano when he'd first run into him.

He shook his head and walked though the open gates of the dojo, calling out a greeting to anyone there.


	5. River Memories

Alas, I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.  I wish he'd "wander" into my life…

*****

BLADE OF THE PAST

Chapter 5 – River Memories

Kenshin was starting to get tired by the time they reached the river's edge.  Suzume wasn't as small as she used to be, and Kenshin had never been very big to begin with.  The girl was almost too old to be riding on his shoulders, but Kenshin wouldn't object to it as long as Suzume still wanted to thread her fingers through his hair as they walked.  

"Is something wrong Uncle Ken?" Ayame asked, tightening her grip on Kenshin's hand as they approached their favorite fishing spot.  A large tree grew near the shore, which provided a nice backrest and ample shade from the warming summer sun.  

Kenshin shifted a little uneasily on his feet and set the bucket and pole down.  "Nothing much to worry about," he said, trying his hardest to smile at her and make it seem genuine.  Children were observant, unfortunately, and Ayame proved it to him.

"You just don't want to tell us."

"I don't want to tell anyone," Kenshin corrected, crouching down in front of her and putting a hand on the top of her head.  "Just some old memories."

"Bad memories or good?" Suzume asked, kicking her feet a little in an impatient gesture to be let down off Kenshin's shoulders.  He reached up and set her down on the grass, watching with amazement as she scampered off after a butterfly almost immediately.  

"Bad memories or good memories?" Ayame asked, intending to find out the answer to her sister's question.  Kenshin would have to talk to Megumi about the girls.  It seemed the woman doctor had a great influence over them and their need for information.  

"Both."  Kenshin hoped it would be enough of an answer.  It hurt to remember.  He wasn't sure if he could even say it out loud.  

Ayame nodded and smiled, patting Kenshin like he was sure Megumi comforted some of her childish patients.  "Smile Uncle Ken," she said, giving him a smile of her own.

Kenshin couldn't help the smile and small laugh that escaped him.  Ayame was satisfied with her Uncle Ken's mood now and chased after Suzume, making sure the younger girl didn't fall in the river or get mud on her kimono.  

Baiting his hook and casting it into the water, Kenshin settled down against the tree.  He wondered if he would be able to catch seven fish for dinner tonight.  They may have to settle with just three or four, or maybe he could buy a few extra from the market on the way back to the dojo.  Kenshin shifted against the tree trunk, occupying a space between two of the larger roots that jutted up out of the ground.  It made it seem like the tree was embracing him, just like she used to…

Kenshin blinked, chasing the thought away as Ayame and Suzume's laughter floated along the breeze from further down river.  He sighed, checking his line and tossing it back out again.  He could feel her warm body wrapped around his, her arms laying over his own as they sat together in their small little house.  This time, he didn't banish the thought.  He allowed himself to remember her, the way she smiled at him in the darkness, the way she complained about his hair being longer than hers, the way they found something in each other that neither of them had ever experienced before: companionship.  

He didn't know why he was thinking of her lately.  He had thought of her often right after the end of the Revolution when he began wandering.  In cold nights that he spent alone along the edge of the road, he missed her warmth.  He missed the way she looked at him, with that brightness in her eyes that never existed when she looked at someone else.  It was she who taught him how to cook.  It was she who taught him how to read and write.  It was she who taught him how to really love.  And it was she who ripped him apart when his own blade ended her life.

"Uncle Ken," Ayame's voice was soft and worried.  He hadn't even heard the girls come back, immersed as he was in his own thoughts.  Suzume climbed into his lap, snuggling close to Kenshin's chest and reaching up to brush at his cheek.

He hadn't even realized he'd been crying.


	6. Battousai's Past

I don't own Kenshin.  Darn.

*****

BLADE OF THE PAST

Chapter Six – Battousai's Past

Sano lazed on the porch.  Kaoru was inside teaching the younger kids.  He could hear the calls and grunts as they practiced and Kaoru's voice as she taught them and corrected their stances.  She was an amazingly patient teacher, considering how impatient and quick to anger she was where he was concerned.  

He was about to give into the temptation of a nap when he heard Yahiko's voice out by the gates.  The boy was obviously trying to get someone to come into the yard, and that someone seemed very reluctant to cooperate.  Sano thought it might be Tsubame, but she wouldn't be nervous about coming into the dojo.  He got up and ambled over.

"Oi!  Yahiko!" he called.

"Sano!" the boy called back, his hand still gripping the mysterious someone's wrist and trying to wrestle them inside.  

"Who is that?" Sano asked.

"Someone I met," Yahiko answered without really answering.  He gave a final tug and tumbled to the ground, a smaller boy sprawled beside him.  

Sano looked down at the two boys at his feet.  Sano's breath caught.  The kid was probably about Yahiko's age, twelve or thirteen, though he looked a lot younger.  He was considerably smaller than Yahiko and malnourished from the looks of it.  Smudges of dirt were on his nose and hands.  Light blood-colored eyes looked up at Sano, showing how scared the kid really was of the big man leaning over him.  But the most impressive feature of the kid was his bright red shaggy hair that reminded Sano of another red-headed man.

"Who are you?" Sano asked.

The kid fidgeted and got to his feet quickly, showing a natural grace that was marred by deep distrust of practically everyone, if Sano read the shaking of the kid's hands right.  He kept his head bowed down, genuinely afraid of Sano.  "Shinta."

Sano wanted to ask who this kid's father was.  He wanted to know why this small-framed boy happened to look almost exactly like Kenshin.  He opted to be polite.  "I'm Sagara Sanosuke," he said ruffing Yahiko's hair.

"Stop it you big twit," Yahiko protested, trying to squirm away from Sano's longer reach.  The action had Sano's desired effect, and the kid laughed behind the fall of his bangs.  

"So what are you doing here, kid?" Sano asked, turning around and walking back to his perch on the porch.

"Yahiko invited me."

"I kinda figured that much, kid.  So why did he invite you?"

Shinta looked aside at Yahiko, as if seeking permission.  It made Sano growl under his breath.  The kid had been abused, and it was as obvious to Sano as it no doubt had been to Yahiko, or else Yahiko wouldn't have invited him here to the dojo.  The way the kid fidgeted, the way he kept his head bowed.  Sano had the distinct impression that if he took off the kid's brown shirt there'd be bruises as evidence of his latest beating.

"He said I could stay here," Shinta very nearly whispered, his shoulders tensing as if he expected a physical outburst from Sano.  

"Well, I'm not the one in charge here, kid, but if the missy throws you out, you're more than welcome to stay with me." 

Shinta's eyes looked impossibly big as he focused them on Sano.  "Really, sir?"

"Sure," Sano said as nonchalantly as possible.  He tried to make it seem as if it were no big deal that he was quite possibly saving this kid from being beaten to death by whatever bastards had abused him every day until now.  "And don't call me sir.  Sano's just fine."

"Thank you, Sano sir."

"Sano."

"Sano," the kid finally said.  

"So, Yahiko-chan, you know what's for lunch?" Sano asked.  

"I knew you only came here to eat my food!" a feminine yell came from inside the dojo.  Kaoru's young students came filing out past Sano, Yahiko, and Shinta.  They were snickering as their sensei scolded the bum on the porch yet again.

"Hush, Missy," Sano yelled back.  "We have a guest, so be nice."

"A guest that you dragged in with you, no doubt," Kaoru answered, sounding like she was coming closer to the doorway if her voice was anything to judge by.  

Shinta looked positively frightened.  

"Like I said, she's an ugly old hag but nice enough when it counts," Yahiko said.

"UGLY?"

Yahiko took off running through the yard, Kaoru hot on his heals.  Sano simply laughed, and Shinta looked like he didn't know whether he should run away from the angry woman or laugh at Yahiko like Sano was.

"Would you stop chasing me, Ugly?  There's someone you should meet!" Yahiko screamed as he jumped over the bucket that Kenshin did laundry in earlier that morning and ran along the porch.  

"Meet who?"  

Kaoru skidded to a stop as she caught sight of Shinta.  

"Who's that?" she said, pointing at the kid.

Yahiko stood next to Shinta, no doubt being the only person in the yard that Shinta even got close to trusting.  "His name is Shinta.  I found these bandits attacking him earlier this morning, and he didn't have a place to go so I brought him here."

"Another boarder."  Kaoru stopped thinking about the money she'd lose long enough to get a good look at the boy.  His shaggy red hair hung about his face and ears, not long enough to reach his shoulders.  "You have hair like Kenshin, Shinta," she said, reaching out to finger the red locks.

"Kenshin?"

Sano shook his head.  He'd been avoiding the subject of the kid's father for a long time.  Kenshin was an honorable guy.  He didn't just have illegitimate children running around.  And Kenshin wouldn't let them go without, as poor Shinta obviously had.

"Himura Kenshin," Kaoru went on, ignoring the pleading in Sano's eyes and Yahiko tugging on her sleeve to get her to stop talking.  "He lives here too, and he has hair just like yours.  Say, who are your parents?"

Shinta immediately got a look of despair on his features.  "My mother left.  They don't let me see her much, and they send her away all the time."

"They?" Sano asked, wanting very much to have a target for his hatred against abusers.

"The men I live with."  Shinta shivered, wrapping his arms about himself as the talked.  "They keep my mother away.  They tie her up when I do get to see her.  I know they threaten to kill me if she doesn't do what they say."

Sano was very nearly shaking with anger.  He was about to demand who these people were and where he could find them, until Kaoru put a light hand on his clenched fist.  He nodded to her.  Getting angry and violent now would only scare the kid more.

"She's been gone for three months."  He looked up, tears welling in his eyes.  "I ran away to find her here.  I heard them talking, saying that she would come here to Tokyo.  I ran away from Kyoto and came here to find her."  Shinta focused his gaze on Yahiko.  "Those were the men you fought.  They came to find me before my mother found out I was gone and found me first."

Kaoru put a hand on his head, getting motherly in less time than it normally took her to get heating mad.  "Would your mother take care of you?"

Shinta nodded vigorously.  "She would!  Mother is wonderful, so strong and beautiful.  They only control her because of me, because I'm too weak."

"Then you need to get stronger," Yahiko said.  "Learn swordsmanship, like me and Kaoru.  You'll be stronger then."

"What about your father?" Kaoru pressed on.  Sano felt her light touch on his fist get a little tighter, as if she were afraid of a bad answer as much as Sano was.

The tear-streaked and young face suddenly turned dark with long-fed hatred.  "My father deserves to die.  He was a swordsman.  He raped my mother and tried to kill her.  That's why she's here in Tokyo.  She came to kill him."

Kaoru took a step back, bumping into Sano.  

"So who's your father?" Sano asked.  He almost feared to ask.  With the kid's red hair and his father being a swordsman, he very much feared to find out who his father was.  But Kenshin was no rapist, was he?

"Hitokiri the Battousai," Shinta answered.

******

ooh….I know, don't yell at me.  

Calger459 – I know that Kenshin already knew how to read and write when he met Tomoe (didn't he read a few words of her journal? – it's been a while since I've seen samurai x so I can't tell for sure).  But note that I didn't specify what language she taught him how to read and write ;) 

mae – Sorry about the previously short chaps.  That's why I put two up last time I posted.  I end up just posting a chapter by the point of view change, so some are longer than others.

Crystal – I know, Ken crying is very very sad.  I hated writing it.  He gets more angsty in the future, so be prepared for some bad memories.  This fic will be full of them, I think.  


	7. The Spanish Ship

I mean, really, do I have to keep giving the disclaimer?  Everyone knows I don't own this.

*****

BLADE OF THE PAST 

Chapter Seven – The Spanish Ship

Saitou very nearly growled at the children who got in front of him as he walked down the streets of Tokyo.  As expected, the small ones whimpered and quickly removed themselves from his path.  His cigarette gave him no comfort as he took deep breaths of smoke, trying to soothe the feelings in his chest.

Anger was there first.  How could they have been so stupid as to allow this to happen?  His involvement in the police nearly guaranteed the best security.  It's why they'd been called to guard the port.  But regardless of their precautions, the unspeakable had happened.  

He was angry at having been bested by some mere assassin.  And his anger grew exponentially as he narrowed down the possible assassins to one.  One that he thought he'd buried a long time ago.  Apparently he hadn't dug a deep enough grave.  

It irked him even further that he was walking down this particular street in Tokyo, with this particular destination.  Asking Himura Kenshin for help always rubbed him the wrong way.  But he'd need the ex-assassin's help in tracking down this particularly slippery fighter from the old revolution.  

"Himura!" he called, hardly raising his voice but aware it carried down the street to where Kenshin was crossing the bridge with the two little girls.  He was holding each of their hands, with the youngest holding onto his fishing pole and the oldest hefting a bucket of what appeared to be fish.

Kenshin turned immediately, flashing a grin that further agitated Saitou with its friendly appearance.  "Good afternoon to you, Saitou."

Saitou flicked his cigarette butt away, striding purposefully up to Kenshin.  "I have business to discuss," he said, never one to beat around the bush.  And he was especially impatient due to the weight of his problem.

"Leave Uncle Ken alone," the youngest girl said, shifting to stand a little further behind Kenshin's leg but glaring at Saitou relentlessly.

"What?"  Saitou was most offended at a little girl ordering him what to do.

Kenshin looked panicked for a moment before he turned down to the little girls.  "Go on home without me and see that Miss Kaoru gets the fish."

The older girl shook her head.  "He may be a policeman, but he's mean Uncle Ken.  He should leave you alone."

"Mean man!" the youngest chimed in.

Saitou could feel his eyebrow twitch.  

Kenshin crouched before the girls and turned away from Saitou.  The youngest continued to glare over his shoulder at Saitou.  "Now, Ayame, take Suzume home and tell Miss Kaoru that I'll be home soon.  The officer and I have some things to talk about."

"Will you be alright, Uncle Ken?" the older girl asked.  

Saitou filed that tidbit of information away as he pulled out another cigarette.  The girls were worried about Himura for some reason.  Which meant that Kenshin might be aware of some important facts, if he was uneasy for the same reasons that Saitou was uneasy.  

"I'll be fine, that I will," Kenshin said, patting each girl on the head and sending them away.  He stood and turned to Saitou.  "What is it?"  The easy and friendly tone of his voice was gone.

"There's been a murder in the bay."

"And this involves me?"

"Not directly.  You see, this wasn't just a murder.  It was a massacre."  Saitou dragged a match against the railing of the bridge and lit his cigarette.  

Kenshin didn't move.  There was no twitch or evidence of surprise.  But Saitou could see it in his eyes, the haunted look of someone who'd been responsible for many massacres in his life.

"There was a boat, from a port in Spain, carrying many important diplomats and heads of trading companies.  The Meiji has been working for the better part of a year to open up trading rights with Spain."  He paused and took another drag off his cigarette, waiting to see how Kenshin would react to the next bit of information he had.  "Everyone on the boat is dead."

Kenshin blinked.  "Everyone?"

Saitou nodded and took another drag, casually offering a cigarette to Kenshin.  

"From Spain?"

Saitou nodded again.  "Do you know who I think it was?"

"She's dead."  Kenshin's voice was deadly calm, the way it got before his eyes turned amber and he forgot all about his vow not to kill again.  "I killed her."

"And I buried her," Saitou added.  "But you must admit that it is quite a coincidence."

"Why did you come to me?"

"You killed her once.  You can do it again."  

"The Tokugawa no longer controls you, you can kill her yourself," Kenshin said, turning to leave.

"Did you know that not even the captain or crew of the ship lived?  There were several children on board, and wives.  All of them are now being identified and matched with the passenger list.  There is one passenger unaccounted for."

Kenshin stopped a few steps away from Saitou.  

"Isabelle Himura."

His hand reached down and grabbed the hilt of his sword.  Kenshin didn't turn around, however.  

"Why would she use your name, Himura?"

"She is dead."

"Why did she use your name, Himura?"

Kenshin let out a sigh, turning around to finally face Saitou again.  And Saitou would have jumped back at the look in Kenshin's eyes if the captain hadn't been so experienced in hiding his feelings.  Himura's eyes were even more haunted, even more hurt and sad than Saitou could ever have imagined.  

"Did you marry her?"

"No."  He closed his eyes, obscuring the hurt.  "She is dead."

Saitou sighed.  Himura's single-mindedness was impossible to escape.  "Then someone else who knows of her is impersonating her.  And if they are the ones who murdered the Spanish diplomats, then I will want you to bring them to justice."

"An assassin, as you and I were."

Saitou nodded.

"Killing the assassin will only make more assassins rise to take the job.  If you work with them, then they will help you bring down the man who controls them."

With a snort, Saitou took another drag.  "You are too merciful.  The assassin murdered the entire boat.  Over two hundred and fifty people including the crew members."

"She is dead."  Kenshin said it softly, so lightly that the breeze and the call of birds in the distance seemed louder.

"What?"

He sighed again, seeming smaller somehow.  Saitou frowned at the change.  Himura was no longer the Battousai, but that didn't keep him from retaining the large presence of a samurai.  Now, even that seemed to seep out of him, leaving nothing but a small man who'd seen too much.

"What?" Saitou repeated.

Kenshin blinked, a bit of his stronger presence coming back to his form.  "I need to get home before Miss Kaoru worries, that I do."

"One more question."

"Yes?"

"Would she have been able to live?"  Saitou flicked his cigarette away, annoyed that most of it had burned down without his smoking it.  

"You are the one who dug her grave.  Would she have been able to crawl back out of it?"  

Saitou glared at Himura's form as he walked over the bridge and towards the dojo where he hid most of the day.  The ex-revolutionary seemed adamant in believing that Isabelle the assassin was dead, and Saitou had to admit his own doubts at her being able to come back to life and escape from her grave.  

But it was too coincidental.  How many women assassins existed?  Very few.  How many had the skill to murder an entire ship single-handedly?  Even fewer.  How many could walk onto a Spanish ship anchored in Spain without drawing attention for being a foreigner?  Only one that he could think of.

*****

And the plot thickens.  It's getting involved, I know, and there are a lot of questions unanswered.  Just trust me and you'll learn all soon enough.

mae – Hearing from you each time is great!  Keep reviewing!  (and good job on guessing Shinta's dad…now if you could only figure out his mom….  Hee hee, soon enough you know!)

Crystal – thanks for liking it so much!  You make me want to write more and neglect my studies…

Calger459 – I know I might be telling too much of the future story, but you are so right.  Kenshin never raped anyone.  That's just a misconception that Shinta has (he's been lied to a lot over the years).

To all my readers - I apologize, but I'll not be able to update for a few days.  I have four tests in two days (organic chemistry and physics – aka HELL – are running my life right now).  Expect another update around Thursday or Friday.  Gomen, but at the end of the semester things get crazy. 


	8. Smell of Blood

I don't own Rurouni Kenshin, but you guys already knew that…

_________

AN: hey guys, sorry its been so long, but this has been one hell of a week for me.  I've had a physics, organic chemistry, history of biology, geography, and marine ecology test; one presentation on salt marsh ecology; a physics lab and a marine ecology lab ALL in the last week.  And I still have another physics test on Monday.  Poo.  Ok, so now that I've ranted about how much college sucks, here's some more Kenshin.  There's a flashback in the middle of this, and I marked it with little *** and put it in italics.  Hope you enjoy!

______

BLADE OF THE PAST

Chapter Eight – The Smell of Blood

Kenshin made his way back to the dojo slowly.  His sandals kicked up dirt along the road; his words echoed through his head.  _She's dead_.  He'd insisted on it, even though Saitou tried to tell him otherwise.  Kenshin had been there.  He had seen it himself.  Even now, his body can remember the resistance of her flesh at the end of his sword, the way his arm jerked slightly as his blade entered her body.  

She never did scream.  She only gave him that sad, sweet smile that understood him, loved him, and mocked him all at the same time.

Kenshin stopped walking.  He was at the center of the last bridge on the path back to the dojo.  He'd taken the most roundabout way he knew of to get there, and by now the sun was starting to dip low in the sky, barely obscured by the mountains to the west.  Kenshin stayed there.  He leaned his arms on the railing, looking out in the direction of the sea, away from the sun.  Perhaps he could stay here, staring out over the water until he could watch the sun rise in the morning.  Perhaps he would stay until the sun rose in the morning.  Perhaps he would just go back to the dojo – his home.

The dojo was the closest thing to home that Kenshin had experienced in a very long time.  But it still wasn't a home, not like the one he'd shared with her.  Now, Kenshin felt responsibility to return to the Kamiya dojo; he felt the tender pull of friends and the calm comfort of knowing someone would miss him if he were gone.  Back then, in the midst of the chaos and terror of the Revolution, he had felt true peace at the home he shared with her.  Their home had been sanctuary, and she had been his sole source of happiness and strength, comfort and tenderness.  Just as he provided the same for her.  The gentle pull he felt now toward the dojo used to be a desperate need to make his way back to her.

***flashback***

_Blood.  The heavy metallic smell of it burned the inside of his nose and tasted bitter in his mouth.  It was no longer flowing off him, dripping steadily to the ground, but the liquid still covered his body.  It blended into his hair and soaked through his clothes.  Some of it was his, but most of it wasn't.  It made his steps sticky, the material of his clothes cold and heavy with it._

_He should have stopped, dipped himself in a river or at least rinsed his hands at a well.  But he hadn't done that.  The Battousai had only paused long enough to wipe his treasured blade clean before he made his way through the streets.  The moon was absent tonight, giving the shadows a deeper color and robbing the world of a normal icy nighttime light.  No one noticed the blood-covered young man as he kept to the shadows, slipping further and further away from the city._

_The wind was cold, reminding of the old winter and foretelling of the next cold spell before spring's return.  Kenshin shivered as he hurried, made even colder as he rushed through the wind with wet clothes.  The blood had lost the residue of body warmth by now, leaving him rushed to get to the little farmhouse they'd claimed.  She was warmth, and he hoped she'd be there when he arrived.  It was a long path, far from the main road.  They'd preferred it that way.  He turned in to the woods, skimming between trees as he followed along the small footpath.  Even this far from the city and this far into the farmlands, he was far too cautious to merely walk along the path._

_There were no lights lit when he arrived.  He paused, gritting his teeth against the cold bite of the wind and the colder press of blood-soaked clothes against his skin.  His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, ready to take on any threat.  With a brief closing of his eyes, Kenshin focused his senses outward, searching for anything and anyone.  Someone was inside the house, just as still and tense as he.  Someone was waiting._

_Kenshin wasted no time.  He hadn't been followed.  After the last body of his victims fell, he'd fled the battle scene.  No one ever followed him.  No one knew of this cottage in the woods where she was waiting for him._

***end flashback***

Sano had given up pacing and now sat with his back against the wall by the gate while he waited for Kenshin to return.  The sun was disappearing behind the mountains to the west and the Gensai girls had come home nearly an hour ago, announcing that Uncle Ken was talking to the mean Policeman.  Sano knew whom that meant, and Saitou's involvement in their lives usually brought nothing but trouble.

He tossed another rock into the street.  Shinta was inside, calmer now and playing with the girls.  Of course, Ayame and Suzume had taken a liking to Shinta as soon as they saw him.  Yahiko pretended like nothing had happened.  And Kaoru had been so upset at the announcement of Shinta's father that she'd started cooking.  Sano shuddered at the thought.

"Hello, Sanosuke," Dr. Gensai called as he ambled closer to the dojo gates.  "What are you doing sitting outside on this lovely evening?  Did Kaoru throw you out again?"  The old man chuckled, surely remembering other times that Kaoru's temper had been directed at Sano.

"Not tonight," Sano said, his voice lacking its usual humor.  Dr. Gensai noticed right away.

"What's the matter?  Has something happened?"

"Oh, no, nothing is wrong like that," Sano said, standing up and waving a hand in the air to brush aside any of Dr. Gensai's worry.  "It's just that we've run into a little problem from Kenshin's past…"

"And he isn't here to clear things up for you," Dr. Gensai finished the thought.

"How did you…?"

"I saw him standing on the bridge, looking out over the water, on my way here.  He looked so deep in thought that I decided not to bother him.  You looked the same way when I came here."  Dr. Gensai gave a little laugh.

"Did it look like Kenshin was leaving?" Sano asked, remembering Ayame talking about Saitou.

"No, it looked like he wasn't going to move for a long time, actually.  Why do you ask?  Is that what's the matter here?"

Sano laughed.  If only keeping Kenshin from wandering again was the biggest problem!  "No, there's something considerably more serious inside the dojo.  Yahiko ran into a boy in town today.  A boy with red hair and red eyes, and he claims that the Battousai raped his mother."

Dr. Gensai trailed a finger through his beard.  "Kenshin is no rapist," he said thoughtfully.

"Those are my thoughts exactly," Sano agreed.  "But there isn't much of a doubt that the kid is related to Kenshin.  He looks exactly like him, except for the eye color."

"Perhaps you should ask Kenshin when he returns.  There seems to be much more to this story than first glance shows."  Dr. Gensai gave a wave and passed through the dojo gates, abandoning Sano to his own thoughts once again.

Kenshin had been married once.  That little tidbit of news had been enough of a shock when they'd first heard it.  Sano supposed it wouldn't be too farfetched for Kenshin to have had a family once.  But why would the kid hate Kenshin?  Why would he believe that the Battousai had raped his mother?  Kenshin just didn't seem the type.

Then again, Kenshin didn't seem the type to kill either, but he'd done that for many years before he'd met Sano and Kaoru and Yahiko.  If the kind and gentle Kenshin they'd come to know and love had once murdered in the streets as the Battousai, perhaps the Battousai was capable of … _that_ too.  

Sano huffed and plopped back down on the road.  It just didn't make any sense.


	9. Flashback

I don't own Kenshin.

Ok, so I know that I left you all with nothing but a little bitty short chapter last time after being out of commission for a whole week.  I've just come up with the rest of Kenshin's flashback here to make up for it.  It's short too, but provides some important background/understanding.  Hope you like.

I upped the rating to pg-13 for this fic.  I don't know what rating it really deserves, but I'm covering my bases here.  This section does get a little…passionate.

***Flashback***__

_The floorboards didn't even creak when he stepped into their home.  It really wasn't much of a home; it was merely a shack of a farmhouse that they'd claimed after the family living here had either died or moved away.  He didn't need to light a lantern to navigate, there were only two rooms in this shack and no furniture within to trip over.  Politely leaving his sandals on the step outside, Kenshin stole through the first bare room and paused in the open doorway of the second room._

_She was waiting for him, dressed similarly to him with dark clothes.  Sitting up against the back wall with one knee bent, her odd-bladed sword was on the ground to her right while its mate rested against her left shoulder.  Her head was down, chin resting on that one bent knee, but she was not asleep.  Bright crimson-colored eyes watched from the shadows of her face._

_Kenshin did not waste time.  He pulled his sheathed pair of swords from his belt and set them aside on the floor as he knelt before her.  He did not even give her time to put away her own sword before he gathered her in his arms, crushing her tightly to him. _

_He needed this – needed to feel the warmth of someone alive, of someone who cared if he were alive.  Desperately, he pressed himself closer to her, burying his face in her short brown hair.  Her small hands pulled at the tie in his hair, letting his long locks fall down his back unhindered.  She ran her hands through it, pulling apart clumps that had dried with blood.  She fisted parts of his hair, using that grip to pull his head back._

_He knew she wanted to look in his eyes.  So, he kept them closed tightly.  Kenshin couldn't face her now, couldn't let her see the pain and bloodlust of a manslayer that still lurked in the deep purple of his eyes.  Thankfully, she accepted his silent plea to stay concealed, and she pressed warm lips to his in understanding._

_Kenshin pulled on her, twisting as he fell backwards to pin her underneath him on the floor.  The sword that was trapped between them now clattered to the floor, a hollow sound of ringing metal that echoed in Kenshin's ears.  Her nimble hands had his gi off his shoulders and his hakama untied before he even realized she'd been tying to get his clothes off.  He made sure they never broke that first kiss.  _

_Her hands rubbed up his chest, wrapping at either side of his neck and pulling him down closer to her.  Her hands were slippery, barely wet.  In the back of his mind, Kenshin registered that her hands were covered by more than just his sweat.  Blood.  It made him shudder to think that the blood from his clothes – blood from the men he'd recently killed – would be on their bodies as they made love._

_But that was nothing new.  She, being responsible for the deaths and blood-letting of just as many men as he, had never objected to the blood he'd come home covered in.  And she'd never objected to this, this desperate act to assure himself that he was still alive – that he hadn't become cold and heartless like the dead men he created.  _

_She pushed against his shoulders, prying them apart far enough to breathe and speak.  Kenshin braced himself over her with a hand on either side of her head, his forehead resting on hers._

_"Shinta," she managed, breathless and chest heaving.  _

_"You have to go," he finished for her, panting and slumping forward.  She wrapped her arms about his shoulders, a loose and comforting embrace meant to apologize.  He sighed and rolled off to the side, laying on his back next to her._

_She sat up, bending one knee again and resting her cheek against it as she gazed down at him.  Her fingers reached out and trailed down the cross-shaped scar of his cheek.  He was eighteen years old, damn it, and he felt more like a child being slapped on the wrist.  With a pouting frown he tossed his head and looked away from her, effectively moving his cheek from her reach.  _

_"Shinta," she called him again, her voice not nearly as breathy and containing a bit of hurt.  "I only waited to make sure you came back alive."  She picked up the sword that had fallen, using it like a cane to get to her feet.  "And to give you a kiss goodbye."_

_"Do you think you won't come back?"  Kenshin sat up, folding his legs under him.  _

_"The Yukiryu are to meet with the Shinsengumi."_

_"The leader of the Shinsengumi does not like you, does he?" Kenshin asked, looking up at her from the floor.  He thought he'd remembered her tales of Hajime Saitou, and he had his own knowledge of the Shinsegumi's leader to draw from._

_"He doesn't.  I should go."  She stood up, threading her two swords into the belt of her black hakama.  She gave him a look, eternal sadness etched into her crimson-colored eyes, before she turned to walk away._

_"Wait," Kenshin called, stopping her in her tracks.  He shuffled to his feet, pulling  his loose clothes tighter around him as he hurried to stand in front of her.  "Kiss me goodbye?" he asked._

_She didn't disappoint._

***end flashback***

________

Alright, now I've delayed for long enough.  Both the girl talked about above and Shinta will meet ol' Kenshin eventually.  Here's my question for you: should Kenshin meet Shinta first then meet her, or should Kenshin meet her and run into Shinta later?  That will most likely be my next chapter, depending how my fav regular readers respond :) 


	10. Enter Samurai

I don't own it.

_____

BLADE OF THE PAST

Chapter Ten – Enter Samurai

The shadows lengthened with each passing second as the sun dipped lower and lower into the western horizon.  Once light gray in color, they turned dark purple and black, mimicking the night that was about to come.  Small fireflies danced about, sticking to the darker areas underneath trees and near the river.  Saitou shifted, his sword sheath gripped tightly in his hand as he waited.  

He had caught a glimpse of her, he thought, after his talk with Himura.  He normally wouldn't have noticed the small girl in a kimono off to the side between the buildings, but this one had eerie eyes and a familiar stance, no matter how hard she tried to seem like any other Japanese girl.  Saitou could tell by her broader shoulders, the way she stood with her feet slightly apart, and the way her hair was braided simply down her back rather than in an intricate pattern piled on her head that she was trained for strength and fighting rather than being a proper woman.  She didn't fool him as she peeked out from the demure lowering of her head and the shy way she held her fan.  

And she had disappeared almost as soon as he'd seen her, abandoning his sight within the span of time it took him to blink an eye.  He'd chased after her, of course, running to the place he'd seen her from the road.  But she wasn't there.  Only a single small golden bell tied to a pristine red ribbon remained on the alley floor in her place. 

Saitou frowned as he pulled the bell out of his pocket, the red ribbon fraying at the ends and the little bell sparkling in the dwindling sunlight.  He rotated the bell between his fingers, noticing for the seventeenth time that the little ball inside the bell had been removed.  This bell, no matter how hard you tried, would never ring again.

A small tinkling of bells was heard to his right.  Saitou very nearly jumped down from the roof and confronted the producer of the sound, but the fat and well-groomed cat simply meandered down the road and hopped into a nearby window.  

He nearly missed the second shadow that crossed the alleyway below him.  

The long trail of a braid was all he caught, shining a golden red in places where the sun hit her hair and remaining as dark as night at the same time.  She wasn't wearing her kimono; she didn't look like a Japanese woman any longer.  She was dressed in men's clothes, black as he remembered them, and she moved with the quiet stealth that only a very experienced assassin could manage.  

As it was, she heard him long before he managed to drop down off the rooftops, landing in a crouch with his sword held at the ready.  She was gone.

"I know you're here," he said softly to nothing.  The darkness moved to his left, and the point of his sword stabbed into the shadow long before his senses realized it had simply been a falling leaf.  He plucked the impaled leaf from the end of his sword and tossed it away.

The slow metallic ring of a sword being drawn was his only warning.  She was behind him.  Saitou jumped forward, tossing himself into a roll that brought him into another crouch.  He wasn't a coward, he berated himself.  So why was he slinking along the ground?  

Saitou stood up, keeping his shoulders back.  He held his sword casually in his right hand, the tip of it just barely grazing the dust of the street.  With his left hand, he pulled a cigarette from his breast pocket and struck a match.  

The shadowed figure before him lunged so quickly and silently that Saitou only noticed the flame of his match go out, the head of the burning stick cut cleanly off.  He frowned.

"Are you trying to tell me to stop smoking?" he asked, striking another match and managing to light his tobacco before she put this match out as well.

"And why don't you answer me?  We used to have many bouts of words, as I remember.  Don't tell me that you're afraid."  Saitou tossed the still-burning match in her direction.  It fell at her feet, illuminating her black-socked feet and dark blue hakama.  He barely managed to get a glimpse of her face before the little matchstick burned out.  Her bright crimson-colored eyes were just as unnerving now as they had been thirteen years ago, and her light olive complexion gave her that unmistakable lure of exoticism.  If only men knew what they were getting into when they chose her for a whore…

Saitou took a drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke in her direction.  He'd noticed that somewhere along the way she'd managed to sheath her sword again.  Two swords hung at her waist, making her look as if she'd stepped right out of the Revolution they'd fought together in.  Her hand snaked down to her first choice sword, pulling the blade from the well-worn and meticulously polished wooden sheath.  The bindings around the hilt were of silken dark lavender.  His eyes trailed down the hilt to the blade, noticing the way the last dying strains of light caught on the smooth metal and glimmered brightly.  But there was something…

"That isn't your blade," he said, noticing dark stains along the purple hilt.  "That's the sword I buried you with.  The Battousai's swor…"

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence.  Her mouth opened in a cry of fury, but no sound came forth.  She charged, the Battousai's sword held true in her strong hands as she swiped at him.  

He brought up his own sword in time to deflect her attack and save his life, barely.

And that quickly, she was gone.  Saitou blinked, looking around for a split moment before spitting the cigarette out of his mouth and giving chase.  

______

Argh, don't hate me.  I know I'm putting off the meeting between Shinta and Kenshin (which will happen first, due to a four to one vote).  Expect it in the next chapter.  –jin


	11. Returning to the Dojo

I don't own … much of anything, really.  Especially not something like an anime.

____

BLADE OF THE PAST

Return to the Dojo

Kenshin paused at the end of the street, watching Sano.  The tall man was pacing back and forth in the street, scaring random passersby with his angry demeanor and incessant mumbles of curses.  Kenshin sighed, braced himself, and stepped out of the shadows and into the street.

Sano's head whipped around nearly instantly, spotting him as soon as the fading light of the sunset caught Kenshin's hair.  He frowned, clenching his hands into fists and stalking straight for Kenshin.  The swordsman took a step back.

"Is there something the matter, Sano?" he asked, keeping his voice steady and trying not to seem worried by the very angry and therefore very violent body of Sano approaching him.  

"Damn right there's something the matter."  Sano stopped merely a foot away from Kenshin, staring down at him and using his height to intimidate Kenshin further. 

Kenshin held his hands up and took another step back.  "Sano, did I forget something?  Was I supposed to pick something up at the market for dinner?"  Kenshin tried to think back to when he'd left the dojo this morning and remember if Miss Kaoru had told him anything.

"Kenshin, did you ever rape anyone?" 

The way Sano just blurted it out, the pain Kenshin saw in his eyes, Kenshin knew that this somehow related to something very big.  He immediately took on an air of seriousness, leaving the joyful and comedic wandering somewhere else for the time being.

"No, Sano.  I am no rapist.  I have done many terrible things in my past, but I never took part in such things."  Kenshin hoped Sano would believe him, for he had no proof.

"What about whores?"

Kenshin blinked.  It _was_ common for many of the samurai to … work off … their frustrations … brought on by fighting by visiting a brothel.  Kenshin had personally avoided such events.  Having a woman for nothing more than mere physical pleasure just seemed empty to him.  

"No," he finally answered.  "I didn't partake in such … things."

"Lots of warriors did," Sano pointed out.

"I won't deny having stayed the night in such places, but I've never used all of their services.  Sano, what is going on?"  Kenshin couldn't keep it bottled up anymore.  And Sano was doing nothing but making him more and more curious as to what had transpired while he'd been absent from the dojo.

Sano heaved a relieved sigh.  "I'm glad to hear you say that, Kenshin.  I really am.  I was worried there for a while, well with…well, now that you've said that you haven't done it, then I believe you."

"Sano?"

"Come inside, Kenshin.  There's something you should see."  Sano led the way through the gates, oblivious to the fact that those few words he'd just uttered sent Kenshin's senses into overdrive.

Was there something wrong in the dojo?  What did Sano want him to see?  Kenshin's hand rested lightly on his hilt as he walked through the gate, searching every inch of the ground, shadows, and rooftops for an intruder.  He found evidence of no disturbance, but what else could have had Sano so worried earlier?  How could those questions he'd answered have put Sano at ease?  It simply didn't make sense.  

The lights in the main house of the dojo were lit, leaving the training area and shed beyond dark and deserted.  Kenshin hopped onto the porch and walked along the length of the building to the doorway, still inspecting every rustle of a leaf and every movement of shadow.

Voices could be heard from inside the lit part of the house.  He recognized Miss Kaoru's voice and Dr. Gensai's.  He heard the girls Ayame and Suzame as their high-pitched laughter added to the group.  Yahiko was there too, yelling at them and obviously the source of the current entertainment.  But there was another voice in the mix – one that Kenshin didn't recognize.  

He slowed as he came closer to the sliding door of the main room, Sano waiting behind him.  With a steady hand, he pushed the door aside.

Miss Kaoru was on the floor, Ayame in her lap.  Dr. Gensai was across the table from her, with Yahiko at the side closest to the door.  Across from him, another boy sat with Suzame curled up next to him, her small hand fisted in the gi he'd borrowed from Yahiko.  

The gi was slightly too big, hanging off of his shoulder and not tying correctly.  His feet were folded neatly under him, and his back was straight – a direct contrast to Yahiko's normal sitting style.  The boy's dark red colored hair was shaggy, hanging into his eyes and covering his ears.  

Ruby-colored eyes widened as they stared back at Kenshin.  

"Shinta," Kenshin muttered, staring with disbelief at the boy.

______

*ducks thrown objects from roommate (Mistress Maxwell)*  I'M SORRY!  I just had to leave you all at another cliffhanger!  Anyone wonder how Kenshin knows his name?   Hee hee, you'll find out soon.

And Isabelle isn't really better than Saitou, she's just in better practice than him.  He's been hanging out with the police and quelling little disputes for the last year or so.  She, on the other hand, has done nothing but hone her skills for the last thirteen years.  And she had to be good enough to take out an entire boatload full of 250 people by herself.  So she's not really better than Saitou, but they're damn close if both at their peak.


	12. Father and Son

I don't own anything.  Well, I guess I kinda have rights to Shinta, actually….but hell – who cares?

_____

BLADE OF THE PAST

Father and Son

***Flashback***

_Kenshin watched her from the floor.  She moved efficiently in the kitchen, just as she moved efficiently in everything she did.  It was a natural side effect of their profession.  The turnip in her hand hardly put up a fight as she diced it easily, using the same odd-bladed katana for chopping vegetables that she used for killing men._

_"Didn't you want to learn how to cook this?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at him and still managing not to cut off any fingers._

_"You can cook it," he said, a teasing grin forming on his lips as he stood up behind her.  His hands rubbed up her back and moved to wrap around her waist.  _

_She frowned at him.  "What makes you think that I want to do it?"_

_"But you're such a good cook, Isa."_

_"Flattery will get you nowhere," she said, elbowing him lightly in the stomach.  He refused to be deterred from his goal of holding her, however, no matter how she elbowed him.  _

_She continued in silence for a while, not objecting to the big red-haired parasite that seemed to attach itself to her back.  Kenshin watched as she cut vegetables, and he watched as her nimble fingers separated the edible food from under the blade of her katana nearly as quickly as she chopped.  _

_"We'll have children someday," she said suddenly, making Kenshin blink a few times before he realized that she had even been speaking._

_"Yes," he answered.  It was far off in the future, and such a high dream that he doubted they would ever make it through the Revolution, much less achieve marriage and children.  "And we'll marry after this is over," he added, uncharacteristically optimistic.  It felt good to dream with her, even if they knew they could never obtain those plans._

_Isabelle nodded, her hands going still and wrapping around his at her waist.  "We'll name our son after you."_

_"Kenshin?"_

_"No.  Shinta."_

***End Flashback***

"How did you know his name, Kenshin?" Sano asked from behind him.  He put a hand on Kenshin's shoulder, trying to call him back into the present.  

Kenshin stared at the boy in front of him.  The boy with _her_ eyes and _his_ hair who was obviously only half-Japanese.  

Shinta stared back, his eyes growing wider.  He slowly stood up, brushing Suzame off him.  The look of shock was replaced by something else, and then it turned to anger.  His eyes narrowed, his brows furrowed and the small mouth turned into a frown.  

"Who the hell are you?" the boy asked, his fists clenched as he stared at Kenshin.  

Kenshin managed to blink and blink again.  "I can't believe…"

"Who the hell are you!?  And how do you know my name!?"

Kenshin swallowed, taking a step backwards and running into Sano.  His eyes never left the angry boy in front of him.  His name really was Shinta.  It had to be…but it couldn't.  He'd killed her.  Kenshin was sure of it.  "I killed her," he whispered.

"YOU!?"  Shinta launched himself over the table, hitting Kenshin in the face with a well-aimed punch.  "You tried to kill my mother!"  Angry tears streamed down Shinta's face and his hands shook at his sides.  

Kenshin's hand drifted to his cheek, feeling the swelling begin.  "But I killed her."

"You did it then?!"  Shinta asked again, demanding an answer.  "You raped and killed my mother!"

He blinked, suddenly called out of his trance.  Kenshin's eyes narrowed.  "I didn't rape anyone," he very nearly growled.  He would never do such a thing to his Isa.  How dare his own son accuse him of…Kenshin stopped and blinked again.  His son?

His son took advantage of his pause and hit him in the face again.

Kenshin glared.  "Stop that."

Sano stepped from around Kenshin, putting a hand on Shinta's arm to keep the boy from accosting Kenshin further.  "Maybe we should sit down and talk about this," he suggested in such a tone of voice that he would accept no opposition.

Shinta simply glared, his eyes bloodshot and pain-filled as tears streamed down his face and his entire body nearly shook with rage.  "Who are you?" he asked again, forcing the question through clenched teeth and sobs.

"Himura Kenshin," Kenshin replied.  "And I used to be known as the hitokiri Battousai."  There was no reason to hide his past now, no reason to hide his former self that he wished and hoped and dreamed never existed.  Concrete evidence of his past was here, in front of him, crying and ready to beat him for some committing some fake crime against his mother.  Isabelle.  "And your mother is Isabelle," he added.

Shinta looked down at the floor, pride in his every move.  "I don't know my mother's name.  No one told me.  And she tells no one."

"Why not?" Kenshin asked.

"Because of you, you bastard!"  Shinta made to lunge at Kenshin again, but Sano's grip on his arm held firm.  "You're the one who tried to kill her.  You cut her throat!"  Shinta's screams dissolved into sobs, and his knees gave out as he sank to the floor.  Suzame crawled back over to him, rubbing her hands in circles on his back and whispering for him that everything would be all right.

Kenshin blinked.  

***Another Flashback***

_"Shinta!  You have to!"_

_"No, I'm not going to kill you!"  Tears were streaming down his face as they yelled at each other, barely heard over the din of the fight below and the storming thunder above.  _

_"You're a better fighter than I, Kenshin.  You should."  _

_She'd used his name, the one that Master Hiko had given him.  Things seemed calmer as she stood ready for his attack.  The clashing of metal on the battlefield below the cliff drowned away to nothing.  He saw nothing, heard nothing, knew of nothing but her.  _

_Kenshin wouldn't have admitted it, but he wouldn't have had her killed any other way.  He'd worried as she went out on missions, worried that some other Imperialist would be the one to end her life.  And now that he was the one faced with the unavoidable option, he had to act.  She was, after all, the enemy._

_He sheathed his blade, spreading his feet wide to steady his stance.  He pulled the blade from its sheath and lunged forward simultaneously, lightning lighting up the dark night for the tiny moment before his blade touched her flesh.  Kenshin saw her smirk and lower her weapon, but it was too late for him to pull back.  His momentum carried him forward, and his blade lodged halfway to the hilt through her neck…_

***End Flashback***

Police whistles sounded in the streets outside the dojo, drawing Kenshin from his remembrance and catching everyone's attention.  Kenshin could just tell that Isa was involved, somehow.  

His eyes glanced around the room, taking in everyone.  With a quick nod, he spun around and fled.

_____

Whew, I finally got them to confront each other.  I know that Kenshin really runs away at the end of this, but the conflict between him and Shinta isn't over.  Only delayed for a while.  I know I built it up and built it up, so I hope the actually wasn't too disappointing.  *rubs toe in dirt shyly*  As always, let me know what you think.


	13. Found and Lost

I don't own Kenshin.

Aw, you guys make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.  I'm glad you like the story, and I'm sorry for not updating but you know how "spending time with family" goes.  This is a little rushed, but I wanted to get it out for you.  Hope you like.

_____

BLADE OF THE PAST

Chapter 13

He didn't think of the son he'd left behind in the dojo.  He didn't think of the many questions he'd left unanswered.  Kenshin ran at top speed through the streets, his ears picking up the sounds of police whistles and telling him which direction to go.  He paused at an intersection.  The night was quiet.  Drawing in a deep breath, Kenshin waited.  He waited for a sound or a clue to tell him where to go next.  He thought of nothing but her.

***Flashback***

He stood still, his blade halfway through her neck.  Her eyes blinked closed, then opened slowly.  She dropped her own blade, the sound lost to Kenshin's ears as a sudden clash of thunder drowned out everything around him.  Her hands shook as she reached up, lightly wrapping her fingers around the blade through her neck.  

Kenshin shook his head, his hand still glued to the hilt of the sword.  His sword.  Tomoe's sash wrapped around the hilt was now stained dark red as Isabelle's blood ran down the blade and over his fingers.  Her eyes looked at him, sad and clear.  She blinked slowly again.

An inch to the right and he would have cut the life-carrying vein of her jugular.  She would have bled to death within moments, the dark crimson liquid of her blood leaking from her neck.  Or a fraction of an inch to the left and he would have stabbed her directly though her windpipe.  She'd be choking on her own blood and unable to breathe.  Dead within moments of his steel crushing her trachea.  

But he'd missed.  His sword was lodged somewhere between those two life-ending parts of her neck.  Kenshin watched as her eyes grew more cloudy.  It was fitting for him to have to suffer through her long death.  He deserved to watch her struggle as her eyes blinked closed and stayed closed.  He deserved the worst sort of death for killing the woman he loved, again.  How Tomoe would frown at him!  

Kenshin's hand shook.  He let go of the hilt, and she fell to the ground and curled on her side, the sword still in her neck.  Her breathing slowed and stopped.  Kenshin left his sword there.  He didn't want that blade at his side.  He never wanted to see that blade again…

***End Flashback***

Footsteps were coming up from behind.  Kenshin didn't have to turn around to know it was Sano, Kaoru, Yahiko, and probably his son.  They had an uncanny ability to follow him anywhere.  And right now, Kenshin only wanted to run away.  He wanted to find her.

But she _was_ dead.  He'd done it himself.  His very own blade pierced her neck and killed her.  He watched her last breath.  He smeared her blood on his face when he'd moved to wipe away his tears.  Isa couldn't be alive.

But his son lives, so she couldn't be dead.  Nothing made sense anymore.

"Kenshin?"

Miss Kaoru sounded worried.  He felt bad for running.  He felt bad for lying.  He felt bad for even living.  He'd caused her so much pain in these few years.  Maybe it was best for him to leave tomorrow.  Or tonight.  

"Kenshin?"

"Yes, Miss Kaoru?"

"What's wrong?"

Kenshin was about to answer when a new voice shouted from far off.  

"We've got her sir!"

He didn't turn around to see if they'd heard.  Kenshin just took off running, trying to find the voices.

"Keep her still so we can tie her!"

Kenshin ran faster.  No!  Don't hurt her!

"There, sir.  She's immobile."

He nearly plowed into the crowd that had formed.  Even this late at night, people heard the whistles and came outside to see what the police were doing.  Kenshin shoved people aside, aware of the smaller presence directly behind him and following him.  He managed to make it through the crowd.

It was where they performed the executions and punishments.  A thick beam was tied across two supporting posts.  The prisoner was tied to the beam, her wrists bound to the beam parallel with the ground.  But it was too tall.  Her feet did not touch the ground as she hung there, her head bowed.  A dark trail of a braid fell behind her, moving like something alive in the strong winds blowing in from the port.  

Kenshin felt Shinta push him aside, wanting to see.  

She was alive.

Saitou watched as she hung there, her shoulder no doubt aching in protest to the too-tall beam they'd strapped her too.  He wasn't known for being a torturer, but she'd ruined too much of his pride for her to simply be executed for current crimes.  He held a deep-rooted hatred for this foreigner, this _woman_ foreigner who somehow managed to gain as much respect as he during the Revolution.  It was insulting.

And she now dared to increase the insult by killing the very diplomats from her own country that would trade with his.  Inconceivable.  

Saitou was about to speak when a young desperate voice screamed from the gathered crowd.

"MOTHER!"

Her head snapped up, looking in the direction of the voice.  Saitou, too, looked to the side where a young boy was running through the policemen he'd had holding the crowd back.  A young boy with red, eerie eyes just like hers.  A young boy with shaggy red hair just like…

Saitou's eyes searched the area where the boy'd come from.  Himura stood there, worry in his eyes and … was that anger?  

With a twitch of his eyebrow, Saitou turned back to his prisoner.  The boy was in his way, arms outstretched to protect the traitor.

"Get out of the way, boy," Saitou said, pulling a cigarette out and lighting it. 

"No!  I won't let you hurt my mother!" the boy screamed back, shaking with fear and trying to act manly even with tears streaming down his face.  His eyes were puffy and red, suggesting he'd done a lot of crying lately.  

Well, he'd said "mother" twice, so it wasn't a fluke the first time.  Saitou frowned and took a drag from his cigarette.  

"You mean this is your mother?"

"Yes!"

Saitou's gaze traveled up from the boy, resting on his capture again.  Her blood-red eyes didn't have that lack of luster resulting from defeat any more.  They were hard and cold…and angry.  Saitou had only seen this intense look in her eyes during battle, when she killed fifteen men without getting a single scratch.

He decided that provoking her was a bad idea.

Saitou took another drag.  The kid had red hair.  Himura had red hair.  He took another drag.  The leader of the Yukiryu was on the _opposite_ side of the Revolution from the Battousai.  How in the HELL did this kid get red hair!?  

"There's something you never told us," he said smoothly, blowing smoke down in the boy's face.  He ignored the kid's coughing.  "There is something very big that you never told your shogun."

She simply glared.  

Saitou was beginning to get frustrated.  He wanted to take that black sash around her neck and just tighten it until she couldn't breathe.  He wanted to beat her over the head until she talked.  He wanted to…

Her eyes weren't on him anymore.  

Saitou watched closely as she looked over his shoulder, her eyes scanning the rooftops.  And he knew, in that moment that her eyes flicked away from his face and back again, that something dangerous was on the roof.  He took a step back.

"Alright, kid.  I won't hurt your mother."

Kenshin blinked as Saitou stepped back, giving Shinta room to breathe and allowing Kenshin to release the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.  He was about to step forward and demand to know what crazy idea was going through Saitou's head when he saw it.

Isa tensed.  Her shoulders twitched as she shifted her support.  Kenshin took off running for her, not caring why she was moving but knowing that something was terribly wrong.

She pulled her legs up, catching Shinta in the side and pushing hard.  The boy was thrown to the side furthest from Kenshin, too stunned and breathless to react quickly.  

Kenshin heard the whistle of air as darts flew toward her.  He pulled his sword and swiped managing to knock two away with nothing more than the force of air around his blade.  

He heard the swift intake of breath behind him.  Isa!  Kenshin turned to see the dart in her shoulder, leaking dark red blood.  He pulled the dart out immediately, throwing it hard to the ground.  He didn't have to inspect the tip to know it was poisonous.  The faraway look in Isabelle's eyes told him.

Two seconds had passed since he'd seen her tense against her bonds.  And in those two seconds, Kenshin had lost her all over again, and he was powerless to stop it.

_____

R&R!  Thanks to all my reviewers.  You really keep me liking this story and wanting to write more!  

SSJKakarott – Tomoe is kinda half-way remotely involved.  She'll be mentioned by Ken sometime soon.

Calger459 – I guess you can survive with half a sword in your neck ;)  In my world you can, anyway.  Did I explain it ok?  Does it seem feasible?  

Spiritblade – sorry about short chaps.  Like I said before, I post them as I write them and if they're overly short I try to post two in one day.  I would have made this chap into two, but just for you I put them both in one chapter!

Crystal – I know, poor Shinta!  He has absolutely no clue what's going on and he doesn't know who to blame and he's just kinda lost.  And it doesn't get any better for him!  *sniff*  things will get better eventually! 

Mistress Maxwell – HA HA!  Another cliffhanger just for you!

Mae – stay tuned, there'll be some more family conflict soon!


	14. Waiting

I don't own Kenshin.

BLADE OF THE PAST

Chapter 14 - Waiting

He couldn't focus as he paced back and forth in the hallway.  Saitou's intimidating and quite frightening presence didn't affect him.  He didn't care how the policeman glared at him, fidgeting from not being able to smoke in the doctor's house.  Even the small and whimpering form of Shinta was far away from his mind.  His own son took second place to the worries and fears that clouded around him and threatened to suffocate him.  

Sano reached out and tried to stop him, saying something about making Missy nervous with his hurried and aggressive pacing.  Kenshin merely glared, his eyes flashing yellow for a brief moment.  Sano wisely pulled his hand away.  

Dr. Gensai was with her now.  Megumi too.  Isa was in the best hands.  He had to convince himself of that.  Isa was in good hands.  Isa was in good hands.  

Oh gods, he'd lost her once!  He wasn't sure if he could handle it again.  

Kenshin's knees felt weaker as he stalked down the hallway.  His breath was coming shorter.  His vision was starting to blur.  He had to stop, putting his hand against the wall in an effort to keep himself balanced and on his feet.  

He was so useless!  He hadn't been there to stop the darts!  He wasn't able to save her then, and he hadn't been able to save her before.  She nearly died twice now because of him.  And the second time was still able to turn in a very bad direction.  Kenshin dropped heavily to his knees, holding his face in his hands.

***Flashback***

His eyes opened slowly, his body aching from multiple wounds and pushing himself too far.  He knew he'd gone too far.  The cold of the snow still lingered in his soul.  But there was a fire nearby, enticing with its warmth.  It almost made him want to keep living.

"You're awake," a soft young voice came from above and behind him.  Kenshin shifted on the hard floor, keeping his mouth shut to avoid groaning in pain.  

"Who are you?"

The young girl smiled.  She looked younger than him by perhaps two years.  Her hair was dark and cut short like a young boy's.  She wasn't Japanese, and her most striking feature was her bright blood-red colored irises.  That and the two swords tucked into the belt of her hakama.  

She knelt down, her fingers trailing across the bandage on his left cheek.  "I hope you don't mind, but I dressed your wounds."

"You should have let me die."

"Because you killed her?"

Kenshin squeezed his eyes shut.  He willed his eyes to keep tears from falling.  

"She loved you, you know."

He didn't answer.  

Her hands were warm as she smoothed his hair away from his face.  "Will you live?"

"I don't know," he answered truthfully.  Without her, without Tomoe, he felt very much like dying.

"She will be disappointed if you give up easily."

Anger flared in Kenshin.  "What do you know of her?!"

"I know that I would have been sold back into slavery had it not been for Tomoe-san.  And I know that I have known her for far longer than you have."  The girl stood up, brushing her hands on her men's clothing and turning away from him.  "I know that she must have loved you very much to not have carried out her plan to kill you."

"Why don't you do it?"

"We may be on opposite sides of this revolution, but I must trust Tomoe-san.  If she did not kill you, there must have been a good reason.  I have to respect that decision."

Kenshin remained still.  The warmth of the fire started to make him sweat, but he still felt cold inside.  

"I'll keep you alive, hitokiri, until the time I'm ordered to kill you," the girl said.  She started out of the house, into the steadily falling snow.  "I suggest you burn this shack when you are healed.  It may hold memories of Tomoe-san, but warriors of the shogunate might find you if you linger."

"Wait," Kenshin called to her.  "You never answered my first question."

The young girl paused, looking back into the room.  "I've been called many things.  I've been given the name Zhinu from my owners in China.  That will do for now."

"I'm called Himura."

"Nice to have met you, Himura-san.  I hope I don't have to kill you soon."

***end flashback***

Kenshin shook with the memory – one of his first memories of her.  She'd been called Zhinu then, and Saitou and others of the shogunate still knew her by that name.  

"Himura!" Saitou called, the sound of his voice leading Kenshin to believe that this wasn't his first calling of his name.  He looked up at the policeman standing over him.

"What is it, Saitou?"

"How is it that you know her?  She was on the opposite side of the Revolution than the Imperialists."

"Leave me alone."

Saitou glared and looked as if he were about to strike back, verbally or physically, when the door slid open and Megumi stepped into the hall.

"She'll live," Megumi managed to say, her fatigue evident.  "If you hadn't knocked away those other darts, or if you hadn't pulled the one out so quickly…" Megumi's voice faltered a moment, contemplating the unhappy ending to those thoughts.  "I don't know how you managed to carry her the entire way here, Ken-san, but she will live thanks to you."

_____

You are all welcome to flame me – after all its been a long long time since I've updated this.  School sucks and it takes up all my time, especially this close to finals.  I hope to write more very very soon.


	15. Forgiveness

I don't own Rurouni Kenshin.

Beware kiddies, there's a little bit of Kenshin feeling sorry for himself in this chap.  He'll snap out of it soon, though, so don't worry.

BLADE OF THE PAST 

Chapter Fifteen

"Stay away from her," the boy very nearly growled, pushing against Yahiko's restraining arm.  "You are not my father, and you are not going to hurt my mother!"

Sano sat in a seemingly careless position between father and son.  He smoked his pipe and watched the proceedings.

"I never meant to hurt her," Kenshin answered, his head hanging down and for all appearances looking like he was the errant child in this relationship.  

"But you did!  You hurt her!  Look at her now – you did _that_!!"

Kenshin kept his eyes closed.  He couldn't look back to where Shinta was pointing.  He couldn't look at Isa's small body on the floor and too pale.  Like the snow.  Kenshin remembered the snow too well.  Blood on the snow.  He'd first met her when he was knee-deep in it…

"YOU DID THAT TO HER!"

Thankfully, Kaoru was there, and she was in a motherly mood.  "Now, Shinta, you can't blame Kenshin for your mother's injuries.  Someone else poisoned those darts."

Shinta stood quiet, the tension easing from his body, and he now slumped rather than strained against Yahiko.  "I know that Master Saku sent those men."  Shinta looked up, the glare and fire returning to his eyes as he stared at Kenshin.  "But he didn't save her."

Kenshin flinched.  The words hit him harder than a physical blow, and he staggered a step back.  "I'm sorry," he managed to whisper.  

But no one noticed.  Kaoru was hugging Shinta tightly, telling Yahiko to fetch some tea and bring it to Kenshin's room.  They'd put Isa in there, at his insistence.  She was still sleeping due to the original poison's effects as well as the side effects of Dr. Gensai's anti-drug.  Kaoru pulled Shinta down the hallway, away from Kenshin.  

"Come now," she was soothing, "why don't you stay with your mother until she wakes up.  I'm sure she would rather see your face when she wakes rather than anyone else's in the world…"

Sano got up lanky legs, swaying a bit from the sake he'd wrestled away from Kaoru earlier.  After events like these, how could she expect him to seriously stay sober?  For that exact reason, he thought it best to return to his own home for tonight.  Besides, with a sick woman from Kenshin's past asleep in his bedroom, Kenshin needed the porch for his own bed tonight.  

"Well, Kenshin," Sano said, clapping a hand on the small samurai's shoulder.  "I'm off home now.  See to it that the Missy doesn't stay up all night worrying about everything."

"That I will, Sanosuke," Kenshin mumbled, his head still down.  

"Aw, cheer up, Kenshin.  Everything isn't that bad."

"My own son hates me.  How can that not be bad?"  Kenshin stepped away from the paw of Sano's hand and walked halfway across the room.  Yahiko bustled through with the tray of tea and cups in his hands.  The kid didn't pay any attention to the two friends in the main room.  

"Kenshin."  

The red-haired man looked up, the sadness of his violet eyes not lost on Sano.  "What has happened has happened.  There isn't anything you can do to change it now.  You can only change the future – not the past."  And with that strange advice, Sano lumbered out the door and away from the dojo.

"He's right, you know."

Kenshin turned around to see Kaoru in the hallway. 

"Shinta doesn't hate you, Kenshin.  He just doesn't know the truth.  And he won't know the truth until you tell him."  Kaoru blew out the lanterns in the main room and started back to her bedroom.  "And you really can't do anything to change the past, Kenshin.  You can only hope to be forgiven."

Kaoru disappeared down the blackened hallway.  Kenshin heard her soft voice converse with Yahiko's for a moment before two separate doors slid shut.  

Forgiven.

It was an easy concept for Kenshin to grasp.  He forgave readily.  Yahiko stole his sword that time and nearly got himself killed for his efforts to be a bigger man.  Kenshin wasn't angry.  Sano tried to kill him after they first met, when he was Zanza.  There were no grudges now.  Kaoru beat him over the head repeatedly on many occasions.  Kenshin didn't let that stand in the way of his friendship with her.  Forgiveness was natural.

But Himura Kenshin has done many things in his life that should never be forgiven, when he was the hitokiri Battousai.  He could fill a small ocean with the blood he's spilt during the Revolution.  He killed his dear wife.  He nearly killed his lover after that.  Kenshin was one of the last to deserve forgiveness.

And still, people had found it in their great hearts to somehow forgive him.  Tomoe had forgiven him for killing her beloved fiancé.  She had forgiven him so completely that she ended up falling in love with and marrying him.  Isabelle had forgiven him for killing Tomoe, Isa's dear friend whom she loved like a sister.  Her heart, too, had found the room to not only forgive his horrid deeds but to love him as well.  Kaoru never once considered Kenshin as anything other than Himura Kenshin, the wanderer who walked into Tokyo one day and never found the urge to leave.  She never held his sins committed as the Battousai against him.  She loved him too, in her own way.

Kenshin's head drooped, and he unconsciously brought one hand up to fist in his bangs.  He tugged on his hair, squeezing his eyes tight.  He did not deserve to be forgiven a second time.  Isa had done it once, and he would not ask her to do it again.  After all, how could Kenshin expect forgiveness when he had yet to forgive himself.

Small sounds of whimpering carried through the thin walls.  Kenshin's hand dropped back from his hair and down to his hilt, ready for the most unexpected creatures to leap out of the shadows at him.  Cautiously, he stole down the hallway and to the source of the sounds.  His own room.

As silent as a ghost, Kenshin slid his door along its tracks, peering inside for the sound.  He expected demons and shadows, wraiths and ninjas – he didn't expect…this.  

Shinta was curled in a fetal position on Kenshin's bedding.  The young boy was crying in his sleep, or crying himself to sleep.  His quiet sobs and eerily heavy breathing made Kenshin believe it was the former, rather than the latter.  Shinta was on top of the blanket that had been used to keep Isa warm.  Isabelle was wrapped around her son, lying on her side with her chin resting at the top of Shitna's head.  She had one arm casually over Shinta's shoulders.  Kenshin could see nothing more of her than the long dark braid of her hair, her face and the olive-complexion of her arm.  The rest of her was covered by the blanket.

Common sense told him to leave.  From the stories he's heard from Sano, Shinta and Isa were kept apart.  Shinta was beaten and basically held captive as an incentive for Isa to carry out Saku's dirty work.  It made Kenshin shiver in barely-contained anger just to think about that.  But something more magnetic than common sense made him step into the room, closing the door behind him.

He had failed as a father.  He had failed as a husband and lover to Isa.  Kenshin swore to not make those mistakes again.  Shinta may hate him.  Isa may never forgive him for leaving her to die all those years ago.  None of that mattered.  Kenshin would make up for his past mistakes starting now.  

And he'd be damned if he left them both in here unprotected while some criminal boss wanted to recapture them or kill them.  

Kenshin's socked feet made no sound as he padded across the room, sitting on the wall where he could face the door and also keep himself roughly between the sleeping pair at the back of the room and any enemies who might come in through that door.  It reminded him too much of his time as a samurai, as the Battousai.  He sat leaning against the wall, his sword pulled from his belt and leaning on one shoulder.  His senses were hypersensitive, straining to hear the slightest sound of warning or feel the tiniest brush of air.  

***Flashback/Dream***__

_His cheek still burned dully from the knife she'd used.  Blood from it still dripped down the side of his face, adding to that of the blood from the head wound as it soaked the collar of his gi.  More blood stained the pristine white of the new-fallen snow.  But not all that blood was his._

_Tomoe's eyes were closed now, her last breath gone and the warmth of her body rapidly fading into the chilling winter air and cold wet snow.  Kenshin clutched her tight, willing her to keep breathing.  _

_The snow crunched off to his left.  He should have turned to see who it was.  He should have assessed the danger.  But with Tomoe dead, he just didn't care anymore._

_"You should leave," the young voice said, high-pitched and choked with a mix of emotions that bordered along grief, anger, and sadness all in one.  _

_"Leave me," Kenshin growled, keeping his head bowed over Tomoe's beautiful face and refusing to let go of his hold on her._

_"Samurai of the shogunate will show up soon.  You, Imperialist, should leave."_

_Kenshin tore his eyes away from Tomoe's blue-tinted skin long enough to glare vilely at the newcomer.  His breath caught short at seeing a young swordsman standing there.  Further scrutiny proved this person, a couple of years younger than Kenshin, to be female and foreign.  _

_"Leave me," he said again._

_"Tomoe tried to save you.  Will you throw her life away so easily?"_

_Kenshin leapt to his feet, leaving Tomoe to rest in the snow behind him.  His sword was drawn and his jaw set firm.  "This is not easy," he ground out._

_"But you're ready to remain here, to die at the hands of the people she tried to save you from?"  The girl cocked her head to the side, letting silvery tears fall like ice to the snow as she watched him.  _

_"Who are you?"_

_"Someone who loved her like a sister," she said, nodding at Tomoe's body.  "And someone who would rather carry out Tomoe's last wishes to see you safe, rather than leave you here to be murdered."_

The white of the snow crept in on his vision, swirling and blotting out colors.  Kenshin blinked, shaking his head of the fog and trying to focus enough to fight.  If she knew Tomoe, then she must be on the side of the Shogun, too.  

_"Let me take you from here," she offered.  Never once had her hand drifted to the two swords at her side.  _

_Kenshin wavered, his body refusing to stand still.  The world pitched and turned under him, making his vision falter again and his stomach scream.  "I won't leave her," he managed to say without falling over._

_"Her family will be here soon.  Reinforcements have seen the explosions.  Everyone will be here soon.  All the more reason for you to be gone."_

_"I can't see," Kenshin told her._

_"You've lost a lot of blood."_

_"I can't leave her."_

_The warm hand of the girl clasped his elbow, startling Kenshin.  It unnerved him to think that she had gotten so close without him noticing.  He was in no condition to fight 'reinforcements.'  Kenshin had to admit defeat.  _

_He never said he would go with her, but the slumping of his shoulders and the katana falling from his grip spoke for him.  Kenshin barely registered the fact that the girl bent down, picking Kenshin's blood-stained sword from the snow and wiping it clean before she pushed it back into the sheath at his belt.  _

_"Come with me," she said, pulling on his arm again._

***end***

He must have dozed.  At first, his senses were muffled and sluggish, but within a second, they were sharp and feeding him unerring information.  The room was shallowly illuminated by dull gray light, suggesting that it was close to dawn outside.  Shadows still hung heavy in the air and covered most of the surfaces in Kenshin's room.  He sought out the reason as to why he was woken from his dozing.  

She was lying on her back.  Shinta had rolled over during the night, and his head was buried in the side of her ribs, his face hidden.  Isa had an arm curled protectively and warmly around Shinta's shoulders, holding him close to her side.  But her head was facing the other direction.  She was looking at Kenshin.

The change in her breathing had woken him.  It wasn't soft and slow like before, when she had been drugged and asleep.  Now it was stronger, quicker, and just a bit on the side of panicked.  

Until she met eyes with Kenshin.  A small smile broke out onto her face, making her seem like she was sixteen again.  Her eyes sparkled with something Kenshin hadn't seen in years.  Love.

Was it possible?  Did she actually forgive him for trying to kill her?  For leaving her there to die later?  

He didn't have too much time to ponder.  Movement from her stole his thoughts away, and he watched as her other arm appeared from under the blanket.  Her hand reached toward him, the fingers flexing clumsily.  Her arm shook with effort, the muscles still weak from the poison.  With a loud thunk, her arm fell to the floor.

It was only a soft sound.  Not enough to even wake Shinta.  But to Kenshin, it echoed like thunder and made his skin jump.  

She wasn't smiling any more.  Kenshin slid away from the wall, setting his sword down and moving closer to her.  Her eyes were closed, robbing him of that sparkle he'd seen earlier.  

"Isa," he whispered.  "I'm sorry, Isa."  Kenshin put his palms flat on the floor, bending down to touch his forehead to the floor as well.  

He heard her hand slide across the wooden planks of the floor, scraping like sandpaper in his ears.  He felt her clumsily reach for his head, her fingers tangling in his hair.  Kenshin felt the tension seep out of him.  It was forgiveness.  Forgiveness and love were laced in that gesture.  

Kenshin couldn't help but raise his head to look at her, only to find that her eyes had reopened and she was staring at him.  The crimson eyes were clouded – whether from sleep or the drugs, Kenshin didn't know. 

Her mouth moved.  No sound issued forth.  Kenshin's eyes flicked down to look at her throat, seeing the harsh scar near her trachea.  He closed his eyes, feeling deflated.  He'd done this.  With one stab through her throat in an effort to kill her, he'd robbed her of her voice, that beautiful voice that she'd used to sing to him.  

The hand in his hair tugged lightly, making him look up at her.  

"No," she mouthed.  He could understand the movement of her lips.     

"But I did this…" he tried to tell her.

Another sharp tug in his hair.

"You gave me everything," her lips said.  She looked pointedly down at the sleeping Shinta on her side.  

Kenshin shivered.  She was wrong.  He'd abandoned them both, and he knew it.  

She tugged his hair again before letting go.

"Food," she mouthed, closing her eyes and falling back asleep.

Kenshin couldn't help but smile.  He rushed off to cook something for her, something that she'd taught him how to cook.

_____

*whew*  Hopefully that's a little bit longer of a chapter and you guys won't yell at me for my short updates (at least for a while anyway).  Like I said before, I write what comes to me and post it right away.  If you'd rather I hang on to that and post less frequently but with longer chapters, you guys let me know.  I don't know what readers' preferences are…besides Calger459 and Pearl who both say my chaps are too short.  But it's a give-and-take kind of thing: either frequent updates with short chapters or occasional updates with longer chapters.


	16. An Assassin's Life

Whew.  Sorry kiddies.  Things have been just hectic with the holidays.  Had to deal with finals first of all, drive through the snow to Illinois to get to my great-grandmother's, and pulled a muscle in my back shoveling that damn snow.  I've neglected my fanfic duties, and I deserve a sound beating for it.  Forgive me.  Hope you guys don't mind the random flashes of memory in the end here.  And I leave it at a cliffhanger.  Quite frankly, I'm tired and I don't want to write some big dramatic showdown while I'm tired.  So wait until next time and I'll try to wrap it up soon.  Thanks for hanging in there with me.

*******

BLADE OF THE PAST

Chapter 16

*******

Sano rang the bell and bent his head in a last prayer for luck.  This was his favorite shrine, one of his most visited when he gambled regularly.  He figured this shrine was sufficient when a life was hanging in the balance as well.  The sun was barely over the watery horizon, and he'd had no word of Shinta's mother's health.  He prayed for the best.

He was about to turn and leave the shrine, to head back down the steps and to the streets of Tokyo when he heard the shuffle of footsteps.  Uneasy footsteps.  Most likely a drunk from last night, coming to the shrine for a nap.  Sano growled low in his throat.  No drunk was going to deface his favorite gambling shrine.  He turned around to chase the vagabond off. 

And he met the vision of a frail woman, holding hard on the rail near the shrine and swaying in the slight morning breeze like a reed.  The light blue kimono he recognized as Kaoru's.  So why in hell was she out here?

"Oi, aren't you supposed to be in bed?" he called.

She glared at him, her weak appearance not diminishing the strong gleam of her eyes.  Her hand tightened on the rail, and she stood a little taller.

Belatedly, Sano realized that she had never seen him before, being unconscious during all the times that Sano had been around.  He held up a hand to ward off any attacks.  Any woman that lived through a spearing by the Battousai must be a force to be reckoned with.  

"I'm Sagara Sanosuke," he offered.  "A friend of Kenshin's.  I was there last night when he took you to Dr. Gensai's.  I forgot that you wouldn't recognize me."

Her eyes softened.  She breathed easier and slumped.  

"As I said, shouldn't you be in bed?"

She looked up at him, shaking her head in the negative and turning back toward the shrine.  Sano watched as she crawled under the rail, walked onto the dias, and pulled down the two swords that rested on the shrine's offering.  

"Um, isn't that stealing?" Sano asked.  

She shook her head again, reaching into a hidden area behind the offering table and pulling out two more swords, these more ornate and having golden sheaths.  She placed them on the offering stand, and she put the original two swords through the tie of her kimono.  

"Ah, I see.  Hid your swords here last night, so ol' Saitou wouldn't get them.  Very smart," Sano agreed, nodding his approval.  

She graced him with a weak smile.  

"Time to go home.  I'm sure Kenshin and Kaoru have breakfast ready by now…"

The woman was shaking her head, backing away from Sano and about to disappear in the woods beside the shrine.  

"Wait a minute," he called.  To his surprise, she stopped.  "You never told me your name."

He hadn't missed the black ribbon she kept wrapped around her neck.  And he had been paying attention when Shinta told them that she'd never been able to speak a word.  He'd heard Saitou's recount of pulling the sword from her neck and burying her with it on the battlefield.  He knew full well that she was mute.  

And she seemed to know it.  She frowned at him.  But seeing as he wouldn't budge until she answered, she knelt in the dirt by the shrine, using her finger to write.

_Zhinu_, it said.  He thought it was Chinese.  And it sure wasn't what Kenshin had called her last night.  That's what Saitou had called her though.  Sano wasn't surprised that she went by several names.  Kenshin had several, after all.

"No, that's not your real name," Sano told her.  

She ran her fingers over the kanji and wrote more.  Sano didn't recognize anything about what she was writing except for the fact that it was foreign.  He tried to memorize the strokes though, the lines of the words she was creating in the sand and dirt.  Zhinu got to her feet, looking as if she were about to leave.  

"Wait, you can't go yet," Sano tried to stop her.  She hesitated for a moment before she brought something out of the folds of her kimono.  A slip of paper rolled into a small scroll, so small it could be mistaken for a cigarette.  Sano took it from her.

By the time he looked up, she was gone.  

He had a feeling that she'd left without telling anyone.  And he had a very big feeling that Kenshin would be very angry to learn that Sano had not stopped her.  He dragged back to the dojo, meeting the sounds of Kaoru's shouting and absolute chaos inside.

Shinta came to consciousness slowly.  He hadn't slept that well in a long time.  He'd dreamt that his mother was beside him, that she was warm and holding him.  He'd dreamt so many wondrous things that he'd regretted waking.  

But he woke to a strange room, on a strange bed.  The fact that he was _on_ a bed was strange enough to alarm him.  He didn't recognize the walls, or the ceiling, or the folding of blankets and clothes in the corner.  Shinta jumped to his feet.  

The futon under his bare feet was warm, telling him that at least part of his dream was real.  This was that man's bedroom.  His mother had been sleeping here, and since her part of the blankets was still warm, she mustn't have been gone for very long.  Shinta straightened his borrowed clothes and crept out of the bedroom, not knowing if anyone was awake or if he were even welcome to be wandering around.  

Someone was in the kitchen, that much was certain.  He remembered his mother cooking when he was younger.  Perhaps it was she.

Shinta was quite disappointed to find that man in the kitchen rather than his mother.  He seemed happy, Shinta noticed.  Shinta wondered where his mother was.  

Kenshin turned around to face him before Shinta even had the chance to announce his presence.  

"Good morning to you Shinta, that it is.  A wonderful morning."  The man smiled, not at all looking like a fearsome and horrid hitokiri.  Then again, his mother was good and kind, not a violent manslayer either.  Shinta shook his head.  He wouldn't like this man.  He just wouldn't.  

"Where is my mother?" he asked, crossing his arms and trying very hard not to notice how familiar this man moved around the kitchen.  He moved efficiently, like a well-choreographed dance.  No step or movement of his fingers was wasted.  This man moved like his mother.

"Asleep," the man replied.  "Did you sleep well, Shinta?"

"Yes," Shinta found himself answering the man's questions and being polite despite his best attempts to remain rude to him.  But something caught his attention.  "Asleep where?" he asked.  Did his mother move to the doctor's house?

The man turned from the cooking rice.  His face was curious, guarded, and fearful.  "In the bedroom, where you slept?"  He asked and stated the answer at the same time, wanting confirmation.

"She was not there when I awoke," Shinta said, a dread feeling making his heart beat faster and feel colder all at the same time.

Kenshin ran from the kitchen, rushing by Shinta so quickly that he only felt the brush of air as the man went passed.  He followed sluggishly in his wake, making for the bedroom he'd just left.  

The man was standing there, his mouth slightly opened as he gazed around the room.

"I was only gone for a few moments," he whispered.

"Did she leave us?" Shinta asked, fear creeping into him unheeded and making his voice sound higher and frail.  

"She must have…" 

"Where is she?" Shinta asked, pulling on Kenshin's sleeve.

Kenshin shook his head slowly.

"Where is she?" Shinta repeated louder.  

"Where is her master?"

"Saku?"

Kenshin looked down at Shinta, waiting.

Shinta tried to remember.  He'd been beaten that night, the men enjoying the fact that his mother had been gone for so long.  They'd teased him, told him that she wasn't coming back for him and that he'd be left there forever.  They'd thought he'd passed out, but Shinta was awake.  He listened to their conversations outside his room.  They talked about his mother returning to Japan soon, going to Tokyo.  They talked about her killing the Battousai when she got there.  They talked about Master Saku going to Tokyo himself in order to meet her, for this job was a particularly difficult one.  He was going to use his yakuza connections to get her undercover during the police investigation.  

"Master Saku is here, with the yakuza.  He was to meet my mother after her success."

Kenshin nodded, turning to leave the room.  Shinta's hand still holding onto his sleeve stopped him.

"What is it, Shinta?'

"Did you love my mother?" he asked.  It suddenly became important to him, to know that his father loved his mother.

"I did, and I still do," Kenshin's soft voice told him.  He put a hand on Shinta's shoulder.  "I would die to protect her.  Or you," he added.  His father slipped away then, as quietly and quickly as his mother often did.  

_I would die to protect…_ the word echoed through Shinta's head as he made his way back to the kitchen, to see that the rice didn't burn.  He knew that his mother would have told him that when she was allowed to visit, if she could speak.  

"KENSHIN HIMURA!" she screamed, using his full name and the full volume of her voice.  No doubt half of the neighborhood was awake now.  And he had meant to leave quietly.  

Kenshin stopped, his hand on the gate of the dojo, about to go after Isa when Kaoru called.  He turned, pleading with his posture and his eyes for her to let him go.  Now was not the time for her to get defensive.  He had a date with the local yakuza and one man named Saku, after all.

"Miss Kaoru, please, you'll wake the city, that you will."

"Don't pull that crap with me, Kenshin.  I'm not going to let you leave here without a word!"  Kaoru was dressed to fight, already wearing her workout clothes and holding a bokken in her hand.  She could get dressed impressively fast when the mood struck her.

"Miss Kaoru, please…"

"Stop, Kenshin.  You aren't leaving without me."

Shinta was standing on the porch, looking lost.  Kenshin noticed Yahiko hurrying to tie his clothes as he ran with his own wooden sword clamped between his teeth.  He murmured something unintelligible as he came closer, and Kenshin only guessed that it was something to the effect of, "You aren't leaving without me, either!"

Thank goodness Sano chose that exact moment to return.

"Um, Kenshin, she's gone," he announced, looking sheepish.  

"Yes, and I'm going to find her…" Kenshin paused for a moment, considering.  "How did you know?"

"Saw her back at the shrine.  She'd hid her swords there.  Called herself Zhinu, I think," Sano recounted.

"Her assassin's name, and her name as a slave," Kenshin growled.  He was less than thrilled to be reminded of her past.  So many bad things had happened, so many things he'd wished he could erase…

"A slave?" Kaoru asked, butting in.  She was good at that, Kenshin idly noted.  "A slave girl from a far away land who fought back against her masters and became a samurai?"  

Kenshin blinked.  The story.  He'd told the story to Ayame and Suzame just yesterday.  Of course Kaoru would remember and recognize it.

"Yes," he admitted.  This, however, was not the time to reminisce.  Time was very valuable when his recently-poisoned lover was wandering the streets of Tokyo and about to attack her former master.  No matter how great Isabelle had been when they were younger during the Revolution, she was recovering and in no shape to take on yakuza thugs by herself.

"She gave me this," Sano said, interrupting Kenshin's thoughts.  "I don't think she expected me to be there, so she must have written it before and decided against leaving it then changed her mind.  You know how women are, changing their minds all the time…" that earned him a whack on the head from Kaoru… "but I have a question for you first, Kenshin."

Kenshin glared and tried to remain patient.  Now was not the time for questions!

Sano bent down, his finger tracing lines into the sand of the street.  "What does it say?" he asked when he was finished. 

He stared at the letters.  She'd taught him how to read and write once.  In Spanish.  That was her home language, and it was beautiful when she spoke it to him and sang him to sleep with it at night.  He blinked.  "Isabelle," Kenshin read.  

"Her name?" Sano asked.

"Yes, that it is."

"Good then."  Sano stood up and handed a small roll of paper to Kenshin.  "Here's what she gave me."

Kenshin tucked it away.  He would look at it later.  Now, he wanted to find her.

"Please," he said to Sano.  "Stay here with Kaoru and Yahiko.  Look after Shinta."

Sano looked indecisive a moment, and Kenshin thought briefly that he might ignore his plea and follow him regardless.  But then Sano took a firm hold of Kaoru's elbow, to her disgust, and gave Kenshin a nod.

"We won't follow you."

He entertained the idea of asking Saitou for help.  The police officer was more than miffed at having to relinquish Isa's arrested status, once the Chief had stepped in and favored with Kenshin's idea of finding the man behind the assassin and not just the assassin.  For that very reason, Kenshin thought it better to leave Hajime Saitou out of this situation.  

Besides, Kenshin knew where several local yakuza strongholds were.  It wouldn't take much to find which one his Isa was in.  He walked down the streets purposefully, looking like he was simply going to market rather than searching for hidden evil men.  

His search was made easier when he spotted the dead bodies lying halfway in the street at the doorway of the Ice Blossom brothel.  

Kenshin stole inside, frowning at the blood that pooled on the polished wooden floor.  He hadn't seen blood in a long time.  And he hadn't caused any of it in even longer.  Was he losing his edge?  He hoped not.  But his promise to live as a non-killer was in memory of his first love, not Isa.  She made no such vow to save lives.  

He knelt by one of them, inspecting the body.  Still warm.  Blood still flowed from severed flesh.  A very recent killing.  

***Flash of Memory***

Kenshin stalked through the snow, coming nearer to the dark house of the Revolution leader he was supposed to protect.  Word had filtered down from higher ranks – this man was targeted for assassination.  Kenshin hoped he wasn't too late.  

_Snow crunched as he walked out of the trees and into the garden surrounding the home.  Men's bodies were strewn about, dark patches of limbs and shadows among the white of the snow.  Red soaked the ground all around them, splattered and pouring.  It was still now._

Flakes fell fat and heavy from the sky, covering over the bodies and robbing them of their last remnants of heat.  It filled in holes of footprints.  It erased the battle that had taken place here.  He was too late.  These men had been dead for at least half an hour.

***End Flash***

Leaving the unnamed yakuza man behind, he turned to assess the first floor of the brothel.  A brothel was a bad place to engage Isa in battle, he knew.  She had far too many bad memories of such places, and she had always been one to use her anger to her best advantage.  Isa could let her anger flow through her like adrenalin, increasing her strength and the speed of her reflexes rather than letting it fog her judgment like it did for most fighters.  

A few bodies were scattered around the first floor of the brothel.  Most seemed concentrated near the stairs, and Kenshin knew that battle had been engaged up there as well.  He stepped politely over another nameless dead body, continuing his way upstairs.

***Flash***

The amount of bodies in the garden were incomparable to the amount inside the house.  Kenshin felt his eyes widen.  Had one person done all this?  He could have, easily.  But he had the Hiten Mitsurugi on his side.  

The smell of metallic blood hung heavily in the air.  He could see his breath even inside, because of all the broken walls and windows.  Because there were no fires for warmth.  He would burn the place, if there were no survivors.  

A noise from upstairs.  

Kenshin hurried to the stairs, reaching down to close the eyes of one of his fallen comrades.  He hadn't known the man's name, but he'd seen him before on other missions.  Kenshin knew he had a family, a wife.  It made Kenshin ache somewhere deep in his chest to even think about it.  

***End Flash***

There weren't any noises from upstairs as he climbed.  More bodies on the stairs made for slow going.  He didn't like stepping on dead men.  Some of the positions looked like the men had been thrown down from the second floor.  

Kenshin hurried, jumping the last few steps and landing gracefully on the floor above.  

He thought he heard something.

***Flash***

He was up the stairs as quickly as it would have taken a normal man to walk three steps.  Kenshin ducked as a blade sliced through the air where his head had been merely moments before.

His sword was drawn and blocking another swing from the blade before his attacker expected, as obvious from the startled step back he took.  The assassin recovered admirably quickly, standing with feet spread and both hands firm on his sword.

Kenshin couldn't recognize the stance.  He didn't know this style.  It didn't matter.  He slid his own sword back into its sheath, ready for a battle.

***End Flash***

The girl let out a startled yelp at his sudden appearance.  Kenshin managed to blush and look extremely embarrassed as he mumbled an apology.

"Where are they?" he asked the girl, his eyes roaming away from her and searching for danger as she pulled her kimono hastily closed about her.  

She didn't answer out loud, but pointed down the hallway.  More dead bodies lined the walls, littered the floor.  

When Kenshin turned around to thank the brothel girl for her help, she had already fainted from the sight of so much blood.  

Kenshin left bloody footprints as he walked down the hallway in search of Saku and Isa.  

***Flash***

The assassin rushed, tired.  Kenshin recognized the slight weary hitch in his charge.  Kenshin drew, his blade flashing in the dim night as it arced through the air.  Only a lucky dodge by the assassin saved his life.  

But that dodge caused him to lose his step, sending him face-first to the ground.  He cut his left forearm with his own blade as he put his hands down to stop his fall.  Kenshin pressed his advantage.

His blade again flashed brilliant blue as it moved through the dark.  He would have cut the assassin in half, separating the lower part of his body from the upper, if he hadn't had seen the assassin's face.  

The assassin turned, trying to sweep his sword along the floor and slice Kenshin's feet.  When he turned, Kenshin saw his face.  And Kenshin realized, it wasn't his face at all!  It was a woman!

And not just any woman.  She was the woman from last winter.  One year ago.  When he'd killed Tomoe…

"You!"  Two voices sounded at the same time.

***End Flash***

Kenshin pushed open doors as he searched down the hallways.  Nothing but dead bodies.  He opened the last door.  

Empty.

Had he gone the wrong direction?  

***Flash***

Her own blade stopped, just like his.  Both of them seemed controlled by something else, something other than the revolution and orders.  A respect for each other.

Kenshin held a hand down, and remarkably, she took it.  She stood in front of him, all of fifteen years old and looking just as proud and peaceful as when he last saw her.  She was tired now, drained of energy, but she was still filled with something that made her seem taller.  She was beautiful.  

His mouth felt suddenly dry.

"You've come to exact revenge?" she asked, her hand slipping out of his.  She leaned on her sword like a cane.

"Revenge?"  Kenshin looked around at the dead.  "I came to stop the assassination.  Is Fujimai dead?"

"Yes."

Kenshin sighed.  "Then I have no purpose here.  I was not told to avenge the dead, or to kill you.  Just to save Fujimai from assassination."  He sheathed his sword.  

Tension eased from her body, and she leaned against a nearby column.  "Sorry to make you fail," she said, a small wisp of a smile playing on her mouth that was so similar to Tomoe's.  

Kenshin ached again.

He tried to distract himself.  Looking around, his eyes lighted on her sword.  There was something…odd…about the way it glittered in the darkness.  Like it wasn't a normal sword.  Reaching out, he took it from her loose grasp.  It was odd.  The katana blade was sharp on both sides.

"I learned in China, you know.  They use broadswords, sharp on both sides like that.  But those are too heavy, too long for me.  A sharpened katana works nicely though," she said.

"And what style do you use?  I don't recognize it."  Kenshin handed the sword back, and she quickly sheathed it.  

"I taught myself, from watching.  There is no style."  She pushed away from the column, standing up straight and starting down the stairs.  "My story is long, and sad," she added, looking up over her shoulder at him.

The significance of walking away and showing her back to him was not lost.  It showed trust.  It showed respect.  It showed she remembered that Tomoe hadn't killed him.  She remembered that Tomoe had loved him once, no matter how his blood-soaked soul had not deserved it.  

This girl had killed Fujimai.  She was an assassin for the Shogunate.  But she was not his enemy.  No matter what side they were on in this Revolution, Kenshin knew he could not fight her.  

She had nearly made it to the bottom of the stairs before his voice called out after her.  

"If your story is long, I have until morning."

***End Flash***

Sounds from outside caught his attention.  Sounds of the ringing of metal swords clashing.  Sounds of battle.  

Kenshin jumped out the window, landing on the roof of the building next door.

_____

One more chapter I think.  Hope you guys did mind my big long vacation from writing.  Don't flame me for it.  


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